A Room with a View
by Ansketil
Summary: AU. PalpatineAnakin I kid you not. Will get Dark, of course. Palpatine wants to seduce Anakin. Anakin wants to seduce Palpatine but not in quite the same way! How long will it take for each to realise the other's intentions? FINISHED!
1. A Room with a View

**Chapter One – _A Room with a View_**

**Author's Note:** This is an Alternate Universe story. It could not possibly be anything else. I read a fan fiction called _'The Lover'_ and was entranced. It was an Anakin Skywalker/Palpatine story, written before the three prequels had come out. This, therefore, is my attempt at that totally inconceivable – yet strangely logical – pairing. Before I start I must confess that I am not a natural slash writer and am only writing this story because it simply would **_not_** go away. A small warning to Padmé fans: I have almost cut her out entirely, thus changing the story completely. However, I don't believe in OOC fan fiction, so all the characters will be reasonably in character. (Except making Anakin gay, of course! But cut me a _little_ slack!)

Remember, this IS a slash fan fiction. It won't be terribly graphic slash – but it is slash all the same.

**Disclaimer**: Own this, I do not. Sue me, please do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

Anakin Skywalker was nervous. He hated ceremony almost as much as his master Obi-Wan Kenobi did, yet here he was, at a ceremony, about to be commended by the Supreme Chancellor himself. He tried to focus his practiced Jedi calm, willing all the richly clad civic dignitaries, senators, and the colourful blur of the cheering crowds assembled in Monument Square, to simply dissolve.

_'Anakin…'_ a voice in his head said pointedly. _'Anakin! It's our turn!'_ the voice of his master insisted. Anakin started forward, not looking at the exasperated master who walked beside him, but fixing his eyes on his eventual destination, the Supreme Chancellor.

* * *

Palpatine watched lazily as the two Jedi walked slowly towards him. As a practiced politician, among other things, he had long ago learnt to shut out the screaming masses. Unless he deigned address them, they simply did not exist. He glanced at the gleaming medals he was to award the approaching Jedi. They shone in the bright Coruscant sun and Palpatine smiled thinly, knowing full well that the Jedi did not care for such honours.

The Chancellor carefully assessed the Jedi as the bowed to him. Both tall and well built they reached Palpatine's eye-level only as they bent their heads. He flicked appreciative blue eyes over the apprentice. A splendid young man, with his tanned skin, dark blond hair and dark blue eyes, and so _talented_… Trained far too late by Jedi standards, Skywalker had not learnt to control his emotions as the other Padawans did. Instead he positively _radiated_ nerves. How delightful.

A little boy held out the silk cushion on which the medals were placed. As Palpatine took the first medal from the cushion he considered that it was not so long ago that the Padawan in front of him had been just such a little brat.

He spoke eloquently of the service of the Jedi, deliberately elaborating on the bravery on one young Padawan in particular. As a reward for his polished oratory, Palpatine was amused to see Anakin Skywalker go almost as red as the Chancellor's surrounding guards.

It was the first time Anakin had seen the Chancellor up close since the celebration of the battle of Naboo. A small man, he was a lot shorter than the Padawan remembered. Palpatine's carefully groomed hair had faded to a very pale ginger, and his embroidered burgundy robes contrasted with his pale skin. Heavy lidded, light blue eyes seemed to reassure Anakin. When the Chancellor began to speak, however, the 16 year-old Padawan learner's nerves returned in full force. The scene that was unfolding was more like something out of Anakin's dreams than real life. _All these people are cheering for me_, he thought. Their mission to Malastare had been dangerous, it was true, but Anakin had never expected this kind of acclaim. It was a heady feeling and as the Supreme Chancellor continued, Anakin was amazed to realize that he, Anakin Skywalker, was blushing.

Obi-Wan accepted the medal with his usual gravity, which Anakin was incapable of matching. Instead the Padawan found himself grinning hugely, and quite forgot to incline his head, forcing the Chancellor to reach up on tip-toe in order to get the medal around his neck.

* * *

The two Jedi stood to one side as others received awards for various reasons. Obi-Wan put one hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "So my apprentice," he said, raising his eye brows, "what do you think of your first taste of fame outside the temple since Naboo?"

Anakin considered for a moment, watching a Rodian artist receive an award for service to the Arts. "I like it Master," he answered softly, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But it's kinda scary as well. I don't know how men like the Chancellor deal with it all the time."

Obi-Wan chucked, looking across at the nominal head of the Republic. "I think he's quite happy dealing with the _stress_ of being the most important person in the Republic. Don't underestimate politicians, Anakin."

"Yes, Master,"

"And don't enjoy this kind of thing too much. A Jedi does not serve for personal fame."

"Yes Master,"

"Mind you," Obi-Wan paused, stroking his neatly clipped beard, "It doesn't mean you can't go to the parties afterward…"

Anakin perked up, "Really Master?"

"No."

Anakin slumped, "Very funny, Master."

But there was a sparkle in his Master's eyes. "Of course you can go, Anakin! In fact, you have to, because my presence is required in the Jedi Temple and at least one of us had to attend. But be careful Anakin, a room full of politicos can be as dangerous as a nest of gundarks. Stay alert."

"Yes Master."

* * *

With his Master's warning in his mind, Anakin Skywalker entered the expansive lavender hall on the ground floor of the Senate building. In his simple Jedi tunic, he felt he stood out like a wookie in a room full of dugs. Yet hardly anyone took any notice of him. Anakin was used to the respect accorded Jedi in other parts of the galaxy, yet here in the centre of the Republic Jedi were just as important as anyone else. Besides, on Coruscant, people knew the difference between a full Jedi and a mere Padawan.

Anakin looked around for someone he knew. He wished that Padmé Amidala were here, but although she had recently been appointed Sectorial Senator of Naboo – Padmé had not yet arrived in the Core. Feeling lonely, Anakin moved over to the tables of exotic food, casting around for a dish he recognised.

"Ah, Anakin." said a cultured voice behind him. Anakin whipped round, a fishy Mon Calamari delicacy half way to his mouth. There was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, apparently intent on making small talk with him. Quickly swallowing the appetizer, the Padawan bowed stiffly, wiping his fingers on his tunic as unobtrusively as possible.

But the Chancellor smiled, waving a pale hand dismissively. "Don't bother, Anakin," he said, oozing affability. "I get quite enough of that already. Let's not have so much ceremony between ourselves. I've been looking forward to talking to you for a while now."

Anakin was shocked. Palpatine had been looking forward to meeting _him?_ "I'm honoured, Chancellor." he said meaningfully.

"I'm glad, Anakin. You're a very talented young man and I have no doubt that you will go far. I'm _sure_ your master feels the same…"

A fault-picking Obi-Wan Kenobi swam into Anakin's thoughts. _I wish,_ Anakin thought wryly.

Something must have shown on Anakin's face, because Palpatine chuckled lightly, a pleasant, inviting sound. "The honourable Jedi don't appreciate their Chosen One? Perhaps they've forgotten that according to prophecy you are meant to save everyone – including them!"

Anakin smiled back at Palpatine. It was a fairly simple interpretation of the famous prophecy, but it gratified Anakin all the same. He found himself liking this dignified yet friendly older man, and began to tell the Chancellor about his mission and life in the temple. Even though there were many beings who obviously wanted to talk to him, Palpatine listened to Anakin attentively and seemed to perfectly understand Anakin's perspective in a way that Obi-Wan never did.

Anakin became aware that beings were beginning to filter out of the hall. The Chancellor followed his gaze. "Perhaps you're right Anakin," Palpatine said, answering Anakin's unspoken thought. "It's time to depart. However, would you consider continuing this conversation at another time?"

"It would be my pleasure, Chancellor," said Anakin gratefully.

"Then it's settled. Come to my apartments in the 500 Republica a week from now and we will continue our talk there. One of my assistants will let you know. Now, Anakin, I really must take my leave."

Anakin watched the Chancellor's entourage file out. He had intended to stay a little longer, but with Palpatine gone there didn't seem to be any real reason to stay.

* * *

Anakin had always seemed the odd one out at the Jedi Temple. He made few friends in the beginning and that made him homesick for Tantooine. He liked some of the other Padawans alright and got on with them, but the only person he shared his true feelings with was his master, Obi-Wan, and even then there were some things he kept to himself.

The truth was that Anakin was afraid. Afraid he wasn't good enough. He was very good a duelling, yes it was true. But Force talent wasn't everything – Jedi weren't supposed to feel strong emotions – they were at one with the Force. But Anakin seemed to be made up of nothing _but_ strong emotions. So each time Obi-Wan lectured him about patience and serenity, it dug a deeper hole into Anakin's insecurity. Not that he would ever admit to it.

That was why Anakin had enjoyed his talk with Chancellor Palpatine so much, and although Obi-Wan had cautioned him against the motives of politicians, Anakin couldn't help but feel that the Chancellor was a good man. He was the perfect confidant. He understood how Anakin felt and seemed to welcome Anakin's confessions even though they must seem trivial to his own manifold concerns. He was genuinely interested.

All of this made the week pass incredibly slowly. Anakin found himself thinking of things he could tell Palpatine. That he bested such-and-such in a lightsaber duel, and instead of pointing out his faults, like his master, Palpatine would congratulate him and be suitably impressed by all Anakin's hard work.

Anakin was sitting on the floor in one of the many meditation rooms in the Jedi Temple, submersing himself in the Force. His eyes were closed, to shut out everything that might distract him from his communion with the Force.

Obi-Wan Kenobi padded softly into the room, sitting down opposite his apprentice, chin resting on his knees. Anakin slowly opened his eyes and waited for his Master to speak.

"I've just received an interesting communication, Anakin. The Chancellor requests your presence at the 15th hour at his residence in the 500 Republica. What _did_ you do at that party?"

"Nothing Master," said Anakin defensively, "We talked, that's all."

"Anakin, attracting the attention of the Chancellor, especially _this_ Chancellor, is not a good idea." Obi-Wan looked his Padawan in the eyes, but the dim light of the meditation chamber obscured the faces of both Jedi.

"He seemed all right to me."

"Because he flattered you?" Obi-Wan said shrewdly. "Anakin, you're the Chosen One! It's in Palpatine's interest to secure your support. "

"Just because he's a politician it doesn't mean he's not a good man," said Anakin staunchly. "Think of Qu- I mean Senator Amidala. She's a politician."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Senator Amidala is an idealistic young woman. Chancellor Palpatine is an extremely experienced manipulator with an agenda."

"He's my friend and I like him," said Anakin simply.

His Master sighed again. "Very well, Anakin, you can go. But mind what I've told you."

"Yes Master."

* * *

Anakin couldn't help but be slightly nervous as he entered Palpatine's apartments. Sate Pestage, an elderly human aide ushered him past the red-robed Chancellor's Guards and into a luxurious sitting room. The room had a wonderful view of the darkening Coruscant skyline and the walls were done in dark maroon. Elegant couches were arranged tastefully around the room and pieces of exotic artwork and statuary from all over the galaxy could be seen on the walls.

Palpatine was standing with his back to Anakin, looking out the window. "Leave us," he told Pestage, without turning round. The Chancellor wore a simple grey-blue robe with a midnight blue cummerbund.

"Anakin," he said warmly as the Padawan came towards him. "I heard there was some controversy over whether you would be allowed to come."

"Here I am, sir," said Anakin, spreading his hands.

"Yes," said Palpatine, whetting his thin lips, "Here you are."

* * *

Over the next few months the friendship between the Supreme Chancellor and the Jedi Padawan grew. Anakin found himself coming to Palpatine with all his problems, always looking forward to sitting together in that elegant room and talking quietly and Palpatine, for his part, always welcomed the young man's arrival.

Lately, in unsure situations, instead of thinking, as Anakin usually did: _What would Obi-Wan do?_ He began to think: _What would Palpatine do in this situation?_ Everyone said that the Padawan seemed happier and more content than he had in a long time.

Only one person doubted that the Chancellor's influence was a good one. "Anakin, I wish you would stop visiting the Chancellor. I have a bad feeling about it." Obi-Wan commented, when he and his apprentice had finished sparring one day.

Anakin wiped sweat of his forehead. "Master, I trust the Chancellor with my life."

His Master re-attached his lightsaber to his utility belt. "Be careful, apprentice," he said softly. "I know your friendship with Palpatine is strong and with _your_ trouble-making skills it is good to know that you have friends in high places. But still I can't help but feel that something is not right."

Later, alone in bed that night, Anakin thought about Obi-Wan's warnings. _What does he know? _Anakin thought sourly. _Obi-Wan's just blinded by his dislike of politicians. He's barely even met the Chancellor! _

* * *

Palpatine was distracted when Anakin entered. He was talking quietly and seriously with his Inner Council and several aides. The Padawan stood still, watching him attentively. It seemed to him that he had never seen the Chancellor before. The man moved with deliberate grace, his delicate white hands kept close to his body. The ice blue eyes had an authority, a vitality that he hadn't noticed before. Palpatine was the shortest man there and yet… even if he wasn't the Supreme Chancellor he would still exude an aura of power. His thin, pink mouth was – wait a minute, why, by the Force, was Anakin thinking about Palpatine's _lips_! He shook himself mentally. _Don't be disgusting, _said a part of him sternly. _You're a 16 year-old Jedi and he's the aged Supreme Chancellor! What are you – gross? _

But Palpatine had noticed him and was beckoning him over. "Ah," he said appreciatively, "This, gentlemen, is Anakin Skywalker, an extremely promising Jedi."

Anakin only recognised Sate Pestage and Mas Amedda among the coterie of advisors, but all of them nodded and acknowledged his presence. The Padawan smiled and bowed. "Now," said Palpatine softly, "I believe our discussion is over. I have business with my friend here."

The group took their leave, talking quietly amongst themselves. The Chancellor eased himself onto a soft maroon couch and smoothed his rich purple robes fussily while Anakin sat down opposite him.

"So, Anakin," Palpatine said, leaning forward, "How are you finding life at the Jedi Temple now?"

"It's the same as usual," answered Anakin. "But we always talk about me. How are you, Your Excellency?"

The Chancellor gave a small laugh that didn't touch his washed out eyes. "As well as can be expected, I have many things on my mind."

"I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time,"

"Oh no, Anakin," Palpatine smiled, the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more pronounced, "I find our little talks _most rewarding_."

"I'm glad, Your Excellency, I also find them rewarding."

As their talk progressed, Palpatine sensed that Anakin was hiding something. There was an emotion there that he couldn't quite pin-point. Naturally, that vexed him, prompting him to phrase his questions even more trickily than usual.

"But what is your opinion of the Jedi strictures concerning relationships, Anakin?" he asked lightly. It was as if he had just pressed the door-code to the Padawan's head. All his feelings became clear to the Chancellor – Anakin was in love. Perfect. If he could push the young man towards the woman, she would do more damage than Palpatine could ever achieve on his own.

"I… I'm not sure," said Anakin slowly. Palpatine had a vision of awkward fumbling with a handsome Twi'lek Padawan. Anakin was – oh how wonderful! This would be ten times more explosive than some feeble woman! "That is," Anakin continued, "it's hard, obviously. But I've found someone who seems to understand my point of view."

"That's wonderful Anakin! Dare I ask…?"

Skywalker's mouth closed abruptly and he looked down at his well-used Jedi boots.

"Anakin?" Palpatine said tentatively.

"I'd… prefer to keep that to myself for the moment, Your Excellency. If… if you don't mind?"

"Of course not," said Palpatine reassuringly. "I would never press you for such information." He stood up and laid a pale hand on Anakin's cheek.

For the first time in many years, Palpatine made a mistake. "Anakin, you know I think of you as a son. I would never want you to do something you didn't think was right."

* * *

**Author's Note: Poor Anakin! Poor Palpy! Neither of them realizes what they're getting themselves into! Reviews would be nice – even if you are just commenting how twisted my mind is! **


	2. Concerning Desks

Chapter Two – _Concerning Desks _

Author's Note: Ahem. Well… What can I say? Oh, congratulations to anyone who manages to spot the small Homeric phrase. By the way, the lack of Palpatine romance in this archive is such a shame. Kittenmommy ought to receive some sort of award. Umm… to me, this chapter really feels like some sort of farce. A small note on the dialog, I am totally rearranging Episode II but have kept some of the movie lines, cutting and rearranging when appropriate, (However bad people think those lines are!)

Deliverance- Thankyou, and no, apart from one fic written before the prequels came out I have never any seen AS/P fanfiction. That's why writing this is so delicious – I'm forging new ground… however polluted the ground happens to be. I can't stop, it's just so FUN!

Agny- I'm glad you think this is cool! I was afraid people would start throwing rotten tomatoes!

Remember, this IS a slash fan fiction. It won't be terribly graphic slash – but it is slash all the same, when they GET to it, at least.

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

Anakin stood in Palpatine's office. The Chancellor had said that he would return in a few minutes. He waited impatiently, standing near the immense desk that dominated the room. Anakin resisted the urge to pick up a crystal ornament and fiddle with it.

Just then, the Chancellor's guards entered the room, indicating Palpatine's return. He seemed to glide into the room, his long, trailing robes masking his footsteps. The robes shimmered like a wine-dark sea. Anakin looked admiringly at his delicate hands and pale pink and white complexion. Palpatine continued majestically towards Anakin, who found his breath coming in short gasps. The Chancellor halted right in front of him, his head just reaching Anakin's chin.

"Anakin…" said Palpatine slowly, as if tasting each syllable. "Your Excellency," Anakin acknowledged breathlessly, his arms snaking around under the smaller man's and lifting him easily off the carpet and pinning the Chancellor down on his own desk.

"Anakin…" Palpatine gasped as Anakin began kissing him. _"Anakin…!"_

"ANAKIN!"

The Padawan's dream shattered, bringing his Master's face hazily into focus. "Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked anxiously. "You were groaning on the floor."

Anakin was suddenly conscious of the soreness of his back and neck against the hard floor. "Oh," he said flatly, "Sorry Master."

Obi-Wan shook his head, "That must have been quite the nightmare," he said, plonking himself down on Anakin's dishevelled bed.

"Yeah," Anakin said as he got stiffly to his feet, "quite the nightmare…"

* * *

Everything that had been good about his relationship with Palpatine was now awful. His concern, his well-meaning questions and reassurances, his relaxed way of talking which allowed them just enough leeway to be informal and yet he still infused a certain formality into the conversation.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Anakin found it difficult to actually concentrate on what the Chancellor was saying. Palpatine had said that his rooms were being renovated so he had asked Anakin to come to his office. _His office_…

The Chancellor was sitting comfortably in his throne-like chair behind his desk… _His desk_… Anakin felt his eyes straying from Palpatine's face to his metallic desk, flashes of that dream and other similar dreams replaying in his head. He had told Obi-Wan that he was having nightmares about his mother, like he had when he first came to Coruscant. But the truth, oh, by the Force… _the truth!_

Palpatine was concerned. Skywalker was not responding to his suggestions! Or if he did it was in monosyllabic grunts that the Chancellor was beginning to dread. This new love interest was_ not_ going as he had foreseen. It was meant to drive an emotional wedge between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Skywalker, thus forcing the boy to confide in his only possible confidant: Palpatine.

What it was _not_ meant to do was drive an emotional wedge between Skywalker and himself, making the boy put off the Chancellor's invitations and spend as much of his time as he could at the Jedi Temple! Was Anakin's lover against Palpatine? Or, horror of horrors, was it Obi-Wan Kenobi himself?

The Chancellor looked at the young man critically, trying not to appear too irritated as he turned the idea over in his mind. _No_, he decided finally, _Anakin could never have that sort of relationship with his Master, it isn't feasible._

_So what was wrong?_

"Anakin," he began carefully, leaning forward, "I'm concerned for you. In the last few weeks you've been distant and distracted. Please tell me what's wrong." The ice in his blue eyes melted just enough for the boy to see the deep emotion underneath.

_There,_ the Chancellor thought determinedly, _if that doesn't hook him, nothing will._

Anakin didn't look at him, fixing his eyes on the small crystal prism Palpatine kept on his desk. "I… I don't sleep well anymore, Chancellor," the boy mumbled.

Palpatine wanted to smash his desk crystal over Anakin Skywalker's blond head. "I see…" he said slowly. "What _exactly_ is troubling you?"

Skywalker was silent for a long time, looking everywhere but at Palpatine. "My…my Mother, Chancellor," he answered eventually, "I have… dreams about her."

"You fear for her?" Palpatine asked.

"…Yes."

_Liar, _Palpatine thought. _You're going to have to do better than that, my boy, in order to deceive **me**!_

"What do you see in these dreams?"

This time, Anakin was ready, "She's in pain…"

_This can be used to my advantage… guilt can be a powerful tool. _

* * *

Anakin was wracked by guilt. He was using his mother in the most unscrupulous way. But he _couldn't _let the Chancellor realise that Anakin was infatuated with him! Palpatine would be horrified! Then Anakin would lose him altogether. Their weekly talks had been going on for almost two years now, intermittently, as Anakin was sent off-world with his Master and although Anakin could deal with his outer emotions now, he was still no closer to solving his inner turmoil.

Worse still, he had now begun to have actual dreams about his mother, seemingly as punishment for his earlier lies. Anakin couldn't help but feel awful as visions of his mother in pain woke him in the night. Lying on his bunk on the Republic ship returning to Coruscant, Anakin felt that something had to happen soon, or he would explode. But what could the Padawan do? Anakin had come close to confessing his dilemma to his Master many times during their mission to Ansion. But he was sure that if Obi-Wan knew, he would order Anakin to cease all congress with the Chancellor… and probably tell everyone in the Temple about Anakin's infatuation with an "untrustworthy politician" at least forty years older than himself.

So who could he tell? Certainly not the Chancellor! Palpatine would laugh and pat him companionably on the shoulder, saying something like, "Don't be ridiculous, my boy!" The mere thought made Anakin bury his head even further under the covers.

* * *

Youvin Parr was a willowy, green skinned Twi'lek Padawan under Master Icree-Di. He and his Master had been sent out on a dangerous mission to the Outer Rim almost two years ago, so for Youvin, being back in the Jedi Temple after such a long time was sheer bliss.

But the real reason Youvin was looking forward to spending more time at the Temple was Anakin Skywalker. A handsome dirty-blond human, Anakin and Youvin had thought they were in love with each other two years ago.

So when Anakin walked casually into the sparring hall and asked Youvin to duel, Youvin immediately accepted, trying to see the emotions that must be boiling under the other Padawan's surface calm. But as the Padawans duelled relentlessly, Anakin slowly but surely pushing Youvin back with his superior strength, Youvin couldn't detect anything beyond calm deliberation in Anakin. Whereas before they had been connected in the force, Anakin fiercely loving and protective of Youvin, now he was just another Padawan.

_I have been away too long, _Youvin thought sadly, _he has found someone else. _

"Anakin!" a voice yelled from across the room, barely managing to be heard above the whirring of lightsabers. Anakin and Youvin deactivated their blades and waited as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin's Master, made his way across the floor, swerving around duellists.

"Master?" inquired Anakin softly in that voice that had always made Youvin think of the smooth, burnt orange Uril syrup made on his homeworld of Ryloth.

"We've just received a new mission, Anakin," Obi-Wan said seriously, nodding to Youvin.

"Already Master?" said Anakin, surprised.

"Yes, the Chancellor has requested the Council to provide Senator Amidala with Jedi protection after the recent attempt on her life."

"Padmé?" Anakin mused.

* * *

"Obi! _Obi!_ Meesa so smiling to see yousa!" Jar Jar Binks skidded to a holt in front of the two Jedi standing in the doorway to Senator Amidala's Coruscant apartment. Obi-Wan grinned, fondly remembering the Gungun.

"It good to see you too, Jar Jar," Obi-Wan managed.

But the Gungun's attention was now on his apprentice. "So disan is your apprentice?" Jar Jar asked, looking with Anakin with awe. Suddenly the Gungun's expression changed and he let out a whoop.

"Noo! _Ani?_ Nooo! Little bitty Ani?" he looked Anakin up and down again. "Nooo! Yousa so biggin! Yiyiyiyi! **_Ani!_**"

"Hi, Jar Jar," said Anakin awkwardly; embarrassed by the Gungun's antics.

"Shesa expecting yousa. Ani…! Mesa no believin!"

The Gungun led the two Jedi into a streamlined sitting room where the Senator and a handmaiden, accompanied by a dark-skinned, thickset man with a mechanical eye-patch, were talking quietly.

"Lookie, lookie Senator!" Jar Jar announced, "Desa Jedi arriven!"

Obi-Wan stepped forward and addressed the Senator. "It's a pleasure to she you again, milady." he said respectfully.

While his Master conferred with the Senator, Anakin studied her carefully. As beautiful as he remembered, she was wearing a dark blue silken gown and her brown hair was put up in an odd, formal Naboo style. _Would she help me? _Anakin thought desperately. _I don't know anyone else I could tell! She always seemed to welcome my confidences when I was little… _Anakin was so absorbed with his thoughts that he failed to notice that the Senator had turn her attention to him.

_"Ani?"_ she said, staring up at him. "My goodness, you've grown."

Anakin wished people wouldn't keep harping on about his height. Nevertheless, he tried to be polite. "So have you," he said, "grown more beautiful, I mean… and much shorter…for a Senator, I mean."

_Oh, by the Force! Today was not his day…_ Anakin groaned inwardly. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and the Senator laughed and shook her head. Anakin wondered how much hair stuff she wore to get her hair like that.

"Oh Ani, you'll always be that little boy I met on Tantooine!"

Anakin looked down, wishing she wasn't so bloody patronizing.

* * *

_She's not that much older than me_, Anakin thought, as he stood outside the door to Padmé's bedchamber that night. _Yet she orders me around as if I were still some little kid! Still, she's the only person with a hope of understanding my predicament and –_

Suddenly Anakin's hand jumped to his lightsaber, as he heard the approaching footsteps. The Padawan reached out with the Force, trying to sense the intruder. But then Anakin smiled, leaving his weapon in his belt.

"Captain Typho has more than enough men downstairs," said Obi-Wan, walking in. "No assassin will try that way. Has there been any activity up here?"

Anakin shook his head, "Quiet as a tomb. I don't like just waiting here for  
something to happen…"

Obi-Wan pulled out a palm-sized view scanner out of a pocket in his utility belt. Anakin leaned over his shoulder to look. There was an image of R2-D2, but no image of the sleeping Senator.

"What's going on?" Obi-Wan asked his apprentice suspiciously.

Anakin shrugged, "I don't think she liked the idea of me watching her, Master."

"What is she _thinking_?"

"She programmed Artoo to warn us if there's an intruder…" said Anakin, silently cursing the Senator for getting him into trouble.

"It's not an intruder I'm worried about, apprentice," said Obi-Wan seriously. "There are many other ways to kill a senator…"

"I know," said Anakin defensively, "but we also want to catch the assassin, don't we Master?"

"You're using her as bait!" said Obi-Wan incredulously.

"It was _her_ idea..." said Anakin sullenly. "Don't worry. No harm will come  
to her. I can sense everything going on in that room. Trust  
me."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. "It's too risky... Besides," he added, "your senses aren't that attuned, my young apprentice."

"And yours are?" Anakin asked, angry at being told his limitations.

"Possibly." answered Obi-Wan simply.

The two Jedi stood together looking out the window at the flashing lights of the upper levels of Coruscant. "You look tired, are you still having those dreams?" Obi-Wan asked eventually, breaking the silence. Anakin nodded.

"I don't know why I keep dreaming about her..." said Anakin, the feeling of guilt reasserting itself in his chest. "I haven't seen her since I was little..."

"Dreams pass in time,"

_That's what you think, _Anakin thought, turning away. _You have no idea!_

"Are you going to see the Chancellor?" Obi-Wan asked, broaching a topic that had long been on his mind.

"Yes, of course," said Anakin, hoping this wouldn't drag on as long as it usually did

"It's been my experience, Anakin, that politicians are only focused on pleasing those who fund their campaigns... The Chancellor is using you! Can't you see that?"

"Not another lecture, Master." Anakin groaned, "Not on the motives of politicians…The Chancellor is my friend and he _isn't_ corrupt!"

"Palpatine's a politician." Obi-Wan stated. "I've observed that he is very clever at following the passions and prejudices of the Senate."

"I think he is a good man." said Anakin firmly, turning away. "My instincts are very positive about..."

Suddenly Anakin felt a presence in the Senator's room. He whipped round to face Obi-Wan.

"I sense it, too!" his Master gasped, and both Jedi raced into the Senator's room.

* * *

As the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic stood by his window, watching the Coruscant air-traffic weave its way across the clear blue sky, he couldn't help but feel that everything was going as planned.

After last night's debacle, the Jedi couldn't help but decide to send dear Senator Amidala off-world for her own safety. It really didn't matter if the leader of the opposition to the Military Creation Act was dead or merely elsewhere. Both outcomes left that clown of a Gungun in charge of the Naboo delegation for a considerable length of time.

And so, because they knew that Senator Amidala would not approve of her relocation, the Jedi Council, in their _infinite _wisdom, were sending their own representative to secure his co-operation…

_Sometimes_, Palpatine thought,_ I wish they'd make my task just a little bit harder…!_

He didn't turn round as his visitor entered Palpatine's spacious office, but waited as the young man made his way towards him.

"Welcome Anakin," he said graciously, finally turning around. "I missed you while you were away." He essayed a little smile, turning back to the window and gesturing for the Padawan to do the same.

"I missed you too, Chancellor," said Skywalker with feeling.

"I'm glad, Anakin," said Palpatine meaningfully, "but I know you didn't come here just to exchange compliments…"

"No…" said the young man, looking down, "I haven't."

"Master Windu indicated that it was something to do with Senator Amidala…?"

"Yes," said the Padawan awkwardly, "Yes… the Senator…"

_Get on with it… Honestly, if I didn't know better! _Palpatine clenched his pale hands slightly, but hid them under his voluminous sleeves. _Sith Masters, give me strength… and why, by the Force, does the boy keep glancing at my desk?_

"Anakin?" he prompted, clasping his hands together tightly. Anakin looked up but didn't look in the Chancellor's direction.

"The Council requests that you persuade Senator Amidala to leave the planet for her own safety. I'm to be sent with her as security, while my Master goes in search of the assassins responsible."

Palpatine nodded seriously, "I will talk with her. Senator Amidala will not refuse an executive order. I know her well enough to assure you of that…"

The Chancellor paused, allowing time for the moment for concern to pass. "And _so_…" he began enthusiastically, "They've finally given you an assignment. Your patience has paid off."

"Your guidance more than my patience, Your Excellency," said Anakin, all in a rush.

"You don't need guidance, Anakin," Palpatine said quietly, turning away from the window. "In time you will learn to trust your feelings. Then you will be invincible."

Skywalker shivered slightly, _yes that went down well… _But once more Palpatine felt that his reading of the boy's emotions was slightly off.

"Thankyou Excellency, I'm honoured by your praise…" For the first time, Anakin's smoky blue eyes looked directly into the Chancellor's own. Palpatine took the opportunity of breaking their eye-contact first, lowering his heavy eyelids slowly until his ginger eyelashes just touched his pale skin. He whetted his lips, preparing his next statement.

"I've said it many times," he began, feeling the Padawan's eyes on him. "You are the most gifted Jedi I have ever met. I foresee you will become the greatest of all the Jedi, Anakin… even more powerful than Master Yoda."

The boy's mouth dropped open. This was, after all, the most fulsome praise that the Chancellor had ever given him. "I… Your Excellency… I must tell you I… That I… You're so…"

"Oh, Anakin, please!" Palpatine interrupted. "You more than warrant such praise."

* * *

**Those two! Will they ever learn? Leave a review, they bring warm feelings to my… er… heart!**

**Next Chapter: I butcher the balcony scene! Pulls out skillet and begins hacking Padmé's heart into little, tiny pieces. **


	3. In Which 2 Politicians Make Incorrect As...

Chapter Two – _In Which Two Politicians Make Incorrect Assumptions _

Author's Note: I'm honoured by the response I seem to be evoking – even in those who apparently "hate Palpy," what bliss!

Deliverance- I hope this satisfies you! I just love the idea of Anakin having fantasies of having Palpatine over his desk!

Ziggy Sternenstaub- I loved _'The Lover,'_ but I searched in vain for the rest of those stories (the links were dead or they simply weren't there) so I just had to start writing my own! Obi-Wan had absolutely no idea Anakin is even considering sexual relations. Youvin and Anakin kept their affair very secret. It hasn't even crossed the Council's mind that the Chosen One's been very naughty!

dagonmordus( )- Well… It's _not_ Palpatine's cup of tea. It's _Anakin's_ cup of tea! giggles uncontrollably Palpatine's doing this for his _own_ reasons – and very badass they are too!

Cmdr. Gabe E- You can't keep a good sith down! I'm overjoyed that I'm corrupting you! I can_ feel _your amusement!

Remember, this IS a slash fan fiction. It won't be terribly graphic slash – but it is slash all the same.

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

* * *

Anakin wished Senator Amidala wasn't so bossy and overbearing – she gainsaid his authority at every turn! _Maybe it's just because she's used to being in charge, _the more charitable side of him thought. _But the Chancellor is far more powerful that her... _the other side of him argued, _and **he's **not arrogant._

They were climbing the steps up to what Anakin supposed must be his home for as long as it took his Master to find those responsible for the attempted murder of the Senator. Personally, Anakin was beginning to understand were the assassins were coming from.

A picturesque Nubian villa in the remote lake region of Naboo, they were miles from the nearest settlement. At the top of the long flight of stairs was a balcony looking out over the deep blue lakes and forest covered hills. The heady perfume of flowers filled Anakin's nostrils.

The Senator rushed over to the edge of the balcony, leaning her bare elbows on the marbled railing. "I used to come here for school retreat," she said by way of explanation. "Every day we'd swim out to that island and lie in the sand, trying to guess the names of the birds singing."

"I hate sand." said Anakin sulkily, trying to spoil her mood. "It's harsh and coarse, and it gets everywhere. Not like-" Images of soft, almost ivory flesh wandered into Anakin's inner vision.

Padmé was looking at him expectantly, her floaty, low cut dress fluttering slightly in the breeze. Anakin reached a decision.

"Padmé," he said seriously, "I need to ask your advice about something, something important."

"Of course, Anakin," she replied earnestly.

"Well," Anakin began, "there's this person I'm attracted to… but they don't seem to realize that I want to be anything more than just friends. I'm afraid that if this person finds out what I feel - that they'll…"

"Oh, _Anakin!_" Padmé interrupted breathlessly. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" asked Anakin, alarmed at the possibility that the Senator already knew of his infatuation… That it was _that_ obvious.

"It would never work!" she said emotionally, turning away from him.

"But… why?" asked Anakin, shocked at her vehemence.

She swung back round, brown hair beginning to fall slightly out of her silver hairpiece. "But don't you see, Anakin, that we're too different. I'm a Senator, you're a Jedi - what about their rules on love!"

Anakin stood very still, attempting to control the incredulous laughter that was beginning to bubble up inside him.

"I'm sorry, Anakin…" Padme began, misinterpreting his silence.

"You thought…" said Anakin, fighting to keep a straight face, "that I was talking about _you?_"

_"Oh…"_ said Padmé, flushing crimson, her expression somewhere between embarrassment, shock and disappointment. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, biting her lower lip slightly. Then Anakin found himself staring at the same no-nonsense Senator he'd come to know ever the past few weeks.

"So! Uhh… this person," she said finally, rubbing her eyes with one hand. "How do you know they don't feel the same way?"

"Oh, they don't," said Anakin dismissively, glad that Padmé wasn't taking it the wrong way.

"Well, have you asked them?" said the Senator pointedly.

"No…"

"How can you know until you've asked them?"

"Well I…"

"Because, obviously, nothing's going to happen until you ask them. Otherwise you might as well give up now."

"Yes, but…"

"All you have to do is go up and say-" continued the Senator aggressively.

"-I can't!"

But Padmé pressed on, ignoring Anakin's anguished bleating. "-And if they're a good enough friend they'll-"

"The Chancellor!" Anakin finally burst out. _"I'm in love with the **Chancellor!"**_

"-understand your position and…" then Anakin's words sank in. _"You're what!" _she gaped incredulously.

"I'm in love with the Chancellor." Anakin repeated miserably, putting his head in his hands.

"Uhhmmm…" Padmé was at a loss for words. "Isn't he a little er… _old_ for you?"

"No." said Anakin quietly.

Senator Amidala digested this information. "Well, you still have to tell him." she said firmly, waving her hands helplessly, imagining the mild-mannered Chancellor's horrified reaction to the confessions of an adolescent Jedi.

* * *

With the successful implementation of the Military Creation Act and substantial emergency powers firmly in his grip, Palpatine's mood was a good one.

Although the battle of Geonosis was only the first bud of a plan that would take years to reach full flower, like any good long-term gardener, Palpatine couldn't help but be gratified by the growth of the seeds he had planted so long ago.

As Palpatine sat quietly in his maroon apartments, the future unwound before his eyes like some dark and complex weaving. The ascendancy of the Sith was at hand and by the time the Jedi would lift a finger to stop him it would be too late.

The door to the Chancellor's apartments slid open with a small hiss. As Anakin Skywalker walked towards him, Palpatine had to resist the impulse to shiver with delight. There was darkness there, a blot in the boy's presence. It was only a small hole, true, but with his assiduous tending, oh how it would grow!

"Your Excellency," the boy said, bowing respectfully as Palpatine stood up. It was the end of the day and the setting Coruscant sun glinted off the Chancellor's silvery hair.

"Anakin," he acknowledged, smiling. "I trust that you have seen Senator Amidala safely home." _Though, of course if she had died it would have been all the same to me._

"Of course," said Anakin simply. "During our time together she gave me some very important advice.

_What is he talking about? _Palpatine wondered. _I hope that stupid girl has done nothing to jeopardize my plans…_ he raised his eyebrows and waited for Anakin to continue.

"That I should do what my heart tells me," said Anakin proudly, a strange light in his dark blue eyes.

The Chancellor was pleased. "Commendable advice, Ana…" he started to say. But at that moment the Padawan bridged the gap between them and bent down to kiss the astonished Supreme Chancellor full on the lips.

Palpatine was too shocked to resist as the boy lifted him clean off the carpet without breaking the kiss, his arms tightening around the Chancellor.

Anakin radiated passion and possessiveness. _This… this is magnificent! _Palpatine thought as he deliberately kissed back, wrapping his legs around the boy's thighs. _Never had I dreamt that victory would as easily as this! _Skywalker's kiss was sloppy and he seemed to want to completely eradicate the older man's much smaller mouth, filling the Chancellor with disgust.

When the kiss finally broke, Anakin still didn't put Palpatine down, but held him there, the Chancellor's voluminous sleeves draped over the Padawan's shoulders.

"Anakin," said the Chancellor quietly, his breath hot on Anakin's cheek, "I don't know what to say…"

"Say you want to do that again," Anakin whispered back, sinking down into one of the Chancellor's luxurious, black couches, Palpatine still in his arms.

"I want to do that again," Palpatine replied, chuckling softly at their parody of a Jedi mind trick. Anakin ran a large hand through the Chancellor's fine silver hair.

"As you wish, Your Excellency."

* * *

**HAHAHA! Yes, the next chapter is when it starts getting serious, so if there's anyone who can't face the prospect of a naked future emperor without vomiting, I most cordially advise you to abandon ship. (No need to warn you about a naked Anakin Skywalker… _that's_ taken for granted! Ah… what ageism!) **

**Leave a review, good or bad, they power my hyperdrive! **


	4. School For Seduction

Chapter Three – _School For Seduction_

Author's Note: I am SO spoiling you guys! This chapter took a little longer to write… which is probably understandable. Just so you know - massive bathroom rugs are one are my personal tics. I've noticed that only neurotic or rich people seem to have them. Of which Palpatine is both.

Ziggy Sternenstaub- Ah… yes, Padmé. She is, at the moment, the only person who could guess where Anakin is at the moment. I'll deal with _her _next chapter! I hope you enjoy the Chancellor er… _revealed_… as it were.

Remember, this IS a slash fan fiction. It won't be terribly graphic slash – but it is slash all the same, and I'm proud to say that this is when it starts. BE WARNED!

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

* * *

Anakin had spent long hours imagining what the Supreme Chancellor's bedroom would look like. But the reality was far grander than even Anakin's fantasies.

It was a vast, octagonal room with a door set into each of the eight sides. But whereas everywhere else in the apartment the colours were muted, here the red was a brilliant crimson and the panels were a shiny black-green, like a Naboo forest at night.

Across the ceiling Palpatine had hung what must surely be an original work by possibly the most famous ancient Core artist, Uriel Antrali. It was a huge piece, done in all shades of red, depicting Fate as a shadowy figure in an obscuring robe, weaving a web with the heartstrings of the many people around the edge of the picture who were in the throws of various emotions. The painting's worth on the open market would probably be more than the apartment and all its other contents put together.

But what had immediately drawn Anakin's attention was the bed. The carved base and headboard were of a liquored red wood. The coverlet and pillows were encased in black shimmersilk, shot with grey and red, so that in the dim light it shone like a dark ocean.

The young Jedi had carried the Chancellor in; Palpatine directing him from Anakin's arms. "_Ana…kin_," he whispered into the Padawan's ear, in a sibilant hiss that sent shivers down the Padawan's spine through to his navel.

Anakin deposited the Chancellor on the bed and began to take off his own clothes quickly, ripping off his worn boots and flinging his sensible nerf wool tunic onto the floor, revealing his tanned athletic body.

Palpatine watched motionless from the bed, smiling his thin smile, pale blue eyes glinting like crystals.

Naked, Anakin moved to kneel before Palpatine and reverentially removed the Chancellor's highly polished black shoes. Then he gently pulled off the voluminous outer cloak and laid it carefully on the floor. Next, he shifted around to behind Palpatine and slowly undid the small ties that held the Chancellor's embroidered cummerbund in place. Anakin's dexterous fingers then moved to the older man's neck, slowly working his throat clasp undone. Then, one by one, he took the Chancellor's delicate wrists in both his browned hands, undoing those clasps as well. Finally, Anakin pushed aside the silken underobe that separated himself from Palpatine.

Crinkled, extremely soft, white skin met Anakin's touch. Both of them lay down on top of the covers, their heads at the same level, Palpatine's small, pale feet just reaching Anakin's hard shins.

Palpatine was unsure of what to do. He was familiar with the procedure, certainly, but he had never experienced this kind of relationship before. Normally his sexual experiences were an extension of his rigid control, demanding absolute obedience from his partner. With Anakin that was impossible. Now it was Palpatine that was being controlled, overpowered, in a way he would reject utterly if it wasn't necessary to his plans for the boy.

Anakin, his body taunt, began to stroke and kiss him all over. The touches of those generous lips made the Chancellor gasp; inwardly loathing his lack of composure. Those clever lips sensitised his body in a way Palpatine had never thought possible, making the penetration, when it came, hurt even more.

Anakin drove himself mercilessly into the Chancellor's small frame, his dark lust overwhelming his senses. Palpatine lost himself in Anakin's pent up aggression, his explosive passion. He looked at the writhing Anakin with the eyes of the Force, at the dark, pulsing, conflagration of feeling that would, in time, destroy the boy's connection with the light. He moaned theatrically, in that deep, throaty voice he knew Anakin was beginning to love, and turned gleeful eyes to his unsuspecting seducer.

* * *

Morning, when it came, found Anakin Skywalker still drooling on one of the Supreme Chancellor's expensive pillowcases. Awakened by some unknown impulse, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter and stretched like a sleepy taagcat, flinging a hand out for the warm body he'd fallen asleep next to. His questing fingers met empty silk.

Anakin's eyelids cracked open, his eyes still half expecting the high, buttermillet ceiling of his room in the Jedi Temple. Instead, his shocked gaze was filled by the surreal figure of Fate, knotting and spinning bloody cords. _Eww… _Anakin thought absently as he got up, scratching himself and running a hand through his dirty hair. _How can he get to sleep every night with that thing staring down at him? _

He couldn't remember which of the eight doors he'd come through last night, but he supposed one of them must lead to a bathroom. He tried the first one he came to. It opened into a long, rectangular room, with a mirror covering the whole of the far wall. Along both sides hung the Chancellor's elaborate wardrobe, a massive forest of dark silks, velvets, and other soft materials he didn't recognise, hung on tailor-made hangers to support the exact shape of each of the outfits. Anakin suddenly had a childish impulse to try one on and then go and find Palpatine – just to see his reaction. _Better not, _thought Anakin, retreating, _he might take it the wrong way._

He tried the door to the left, finding a cosy private holo-library, as well as some shelves of actual manuscripts. Anakin shut the door: he had no interest in the Chancellor's literary collection.

The next door proved to be the bathroom, _although, _thought Anakin as he stared down at the huge, old-fashioned, red marble bath that sunk into the floor, _it probably deserves a much grander name like 'bath hall' or something. _

The bathroom bench was a matching marble slab, with a small padded stool in front of it, covered with bottles and devices that Anakin didn't know men actually used – or women for that matter! Another large mirror hung above. There were a collection of red and black rugs spread across the floor, making Anakin wonder what the blazes (an expression he'd picked up from his Master) Palpatine thought he was doing with rugs in his bathroom. How could he possibly think he could get from the bath to the bench without completely soaking his immaculate rugs?

As Anakin relieved himself and washed his hands, he wondered just exactly how vain the Chancellor was.

Through the tinted windows, Coruscant was just beginning to wake up and stretch her wings – though, of course, whether the naughty girl had actually gone to sleep was debatable. After donning his rumpled clothing, Anakin tested the other doors, eventually finding Palpatine in what must be his private study, staring intently at a screen and typing notes in the keypad of another computer. He was already impeccably dressed and groomed, wearing a dove grey, velvet robe with a sea green cummerbund and cuffs. The only hint that he'd spent nearly all night being fucked by a randy young Jedi was that, in the blue morning light, his face looked drawn, his large nose and pallid, thin lips only contributing to the consumptive look.

Anakin padded over to behind the seated Chancellor and gently began to massage the man's temples. Palpatine let out a small sigh and, closing his eyes, lent back into Anakin's large, firm hands.

"Have you eaten?" asked Anakin quietly, with a determined edge to his question.

"No," said Palpatine dismissively, moving to get back to his typing, but hampered by those hands, holding his shoulders back, preventing him from leaning forward.

"Well then, Your Excellency," said Anakin playfully, assuming the air of a stern mother, "you can't go back to deciding the fate of the galaxy until you've had your breakfast."

Palpatine opened his mouth and shut it abruptly with a snap, his teeth grinding slightly at the end.

"Anakin, _really_…" he started to say, smile slightly forced.

"No buts!" said the Padawan cheerfully as he effortlessly scooped up the Chancellor, carrying him out of the study. "I'm getting some food into you if I have to tie you to your chair and force-feed you with a spoon!"

Palpatine winced.

* * *

"But, Anakin, are Jedi allowed to love?" Palpatine asked curiously. They sat on stools in the Chancellor's airy kitchen, a sumptuous array of fruit from all over the galaxy spread out before them.

Anakin cut himself a slice of a type of blue melon he didn't recognise. The veteran of many guilt-ridden discussions with Youvin on this subject, he had an argument ready.

"The love of the Force, in all its forms – which I would define as unconditional love – is considered essential to a Jedi's character… So you might say we are _encouraged_ to love."

"That's pure sophistry, Anakin, and you know it." Palpatine said, sipping his Alderaani coffee. He smiled without showing his teeth. "What about the Sith?" he continued, "are they allowed to love?"

"Sith rely on their passions…" said Anakin slowly, trying to recall his Master's lectures on the subject.

"So, love would only add to a Sith's strength?' Palpatine asked, meticulously skinning a red Penja fruit with his knife.

"I guess…" said Anakin, watching the Chancellor bite into the fruit, pale hands sticky with red juice.

* * *

**Oooo! Who is being seduced _indeed!_ **

**Leave a review – they provoke speedy updating. **


	5. An Absolute Emergency

Chapter Five –_ An Absolute Emergency_

Author's Note: My one goal in this fanfiction is to get Palpatine to legitimately say _"Hold me…"_

Fallen- Did not I post in large letters for all to see that I kidded you not? That I am utterly serious in my mission to seriously mess with two Sith Lords who thoroughly deserve it? But thankyou crazy fan-girl – we loves reviews, _precious_, yes…! This is a sick, sad, funny, and completely silly little story… (Takes a moment to think about that) no wonder I'm getting so many reviews…!

Cmdr. Gabe E- Look how twisted _you've _become! Well, Palpatine has the edge over Anakin – but Anakin has time and sex on his side. Thanks for the idea – I'll have to work _grabbing _into a chapter – I wonder if the Senate has utility cupboards…? Wait, what about the elevator while Obi-Wan is unconscious? (Now _there_ I am kidding!)

Deliverance- Te-he-he…! Anakin still has no idea what's in store…! Your reviews are wonderful – thanks so much. That gardening comment is my favourite too. It's true, Palpatine has extreme patience. This serves him well when dealing with an immature, smoochy Anakin.

Remember, this IS a slash fan fiction. It won't be terribly graphic slash – but it is slash all the same.

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

* * *

_It's paradoxical, _thought Obi-Wan Kenobi, greeting his apprentice after their long separation, _that Anakin, one of the fastest pilots in the galaxy, always arrives a day or two late._

The two Jedi embraced each other. Fighting on separate fronts, they hadn't seen each other for three months. Standing in the Jedi Temple for the first time in what felt like years, both of their faces split into grins.

"It's good to see you, Anakin," said Obi-Wan, putting a fatherly hand on his apprentice's shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Master," Anakin replied, looking down at the marbled floor.

"I hope you've been behaving yourself, apprentice," Obi-Wan said seriously, but there was a slight twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Of course, Master," said Anakin, following his Master to the elevator that would take them up to the Jedi Council chamber. "Don't you trust me?"

_I was wrong, _Obi-Wan thought as they silently rode the turbo-lift. _All this responsibility is good for him. Master Yoda was right. I was being to firm on the boy. _

* * *

"We recognise the Senator from the Sovereign System of Naboo," the Supreme Chancellor announced, his voice magnified to fill the cavernous Senate, yellow media holo-cams circling him like flies.

_You ought to! _Thought Padmé Amidala as she pressed a control and the Naboo pod floated majestically down from the upper tier of the Senate, for, unlike certain unscrupulous delegates, and like Palpatine before her, Padmé preferred not to tamper with the speed her pod could reach the Chancellor's podium, relying rather on her heartfelt speeches to win the day. Though, of course, such racing to get to the podium was completely irrelevant now, as she was opening the debate.

_This is what Anakin loves, _she thought, as her pod drew closer to the bud-like podium. Palpatine looked worn but dignified, in his robes of dark plum; his thin lips pressed together, icy blue eyes full of determination. _How can Anakin love him? How? Why? Why him and not me?_

"Honourable Delegates," she began, extending her arms. "There is still time for us to save our beloved Republic. Without our principles, our glorious democracy – what are we fighting for? There is still time! We must reopen negotiations with the Separatist leaders! We can-"

But she was drowned out. "We cannot allow them time to regroup!' the blue-skinned Ryloth Senator proclaimed loudly.

"It would be tantamount to destroying all our hard won recent victories!" clamoured Toonbuck Toora, banging on the side of her pod.

"The Separatists-" Padmé tried again, but she could hardly hear herself think above the cheering, hissing, yelling and catcalling that had broken out.

She looked across at the Alderaani box, her desperate brown eyes locking with Bail Organa's. The dark, bearded Senator shook his head sadly. _Not today, Padmé, _his eyes told her, _not today…_

Amidala swung round to face the Chancellor. Palpatine grimaced sympathetically, but she saw no pity in those eyes. None.

* * *

Padmé would have been shocked to learn that Palpatine's thoughts were not in any way related to her, the debate, the Senate, or, indeed, the war in general.

Skywalker, it always came back to Skywalker. An accomplished manipulator, Palpatine was familiar with the whole spectrum of emotions; but his own had always been invariably been clear cut. He knew exactly who he was and, more importantly, _what _he was, without any possible doubt. Unlike Anakin, his feelings were internalised, examined, processed, cooled, stored, and released only when it suited him. His inner flame had long ago been ripped out and replaced with ice so deep and glacial, it _burned_.

The Chancellor had always assumed that the body and the mind were one: in full agreement always.

But, as he was beginning to learn, his own body did not always take orders calmly. That, in fact, while Palpatine's _mind_ was focused on the Senate – his _body_ was thinking about Anakin. Of all the rebellions Palpatine had, or ever would, face - his own was proving the most treacherous and the most painful.

* * *

The two of them lay in the Chancellor's steaming bath, Palpatine curled up around Anakin, who lay with his wet arms resting on the cool marble. The boy put one big hand under the water and began to trail his fingers down the older man's pale flesh. Palpatine quivered and-

"We do not recognise that Senator from Malastare at this time! _Continue_, Senator Organa."

_Orga… argh! Oh why, in the name of the Sith, was this happening to him! _The Supreme Chancellor pursed his lips and stepped forward slightly to press himself up against the front of the podium.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker, blissfully unaware of the event that he had just initiated in the Senate, tried not to show his excitement as he calmly walked out of the Jedi Temple and hailed an air-taxi. The Chancellor had told him that Anakin's speeder attracted attention above a certain level, so the young Jedi had to content himself with sitting impatiently in the back of a sky-car, longing to fix the archaic engine that made the taxi go so slowly, hating the cheerful banter of the Correllian immigrant driving.

Palpatine had given him the pass-codes for the Senatorial emergency escape tunnel – which was only supposed to be used in absolute emergencies. Anakin smiled wryly as he keyed in the pass code. _Absolute emergency was a matter of opinion._

Carefully cloaked, Anakin emerged at the end of the corridor that led to the Supreme Chancellor's central office. It was simplicity itself to convince the beings crowding the corridor that he'd been there all along.

Sate Pestage was waiting for him. "He's expecting you," the aide said quietly, immediately ushering Anakin into the familiar office, to the considerable annoyance of all the important and self-important people waiting in Palpatine's ante-room.

The Chancellor stood in his usual position by the window, wearing deep plum robes with elaborate sleeves that actually touched the floor. He took a slight step toward Anakin, but Anakin had already crossed the room and wrapped himself around the smaller man, Palpatine's head buried against Anakin's large chest, one calloused hand reaching to stroke the Chancellor's fine, now almost white, hair; one of Anakin's habits.

"I missed you so much!" said Anakin with feeling. "A hologram's not the same as holding you in my arms… besides, they never do you justice."

The Chancellor said nothing, but snuggled further into the embrace.

"It was _agony_ without you there," Anakin continued, "all the time I kept thinking: What is he doing right now? What is he thinking…?"

"I was thinking about _you_…" said Palpatine suddenly, surprising Anakin.

"You… you were?" Anakin wanted to pick up the Supreme Chancellor and whirl him round the room.

"…_yes_," answered Palpatine faintly, moving a pallid, wrinkled hand to caress the vertical scar that ran across the edge of Anakin's right eye. "Did that hurt much?" he asked quietly, wishing Anakin didn't enjoy this soppy talk quite as much as the boy did.

"Yes," said Anakin simply, "but not as much as being away from you…"

"To think what I'm making you go through_ just_ to safeguard the Republic!"

"Was that a joke?" said Anakin suspiciously.

"Of course not, Anakin," said the Chancellor smugly. "But," he continued, his tone now grave, "I would undergo that and much more if it meant that we could finally have peace."

Palpatine suddenly looked appallingly tired. _He's so fragile, _Anakin thought. _I don't think he realises how fragile he really is. _"It will _never_ come to that," said Anakin fiercely. "I will protect you."

"I know, Anakin. I know."

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi found Senator Amidala in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's waiting room.

"Senator!" said the Jedi Knight appreciatively, "I've found you! Do you know where Anakin is?"

"No," said Padmé, surprised. "I haven't seen him since he took me back to Naboo."

"That's odd," said Obi-Wan, stroking his beard, "when I asked him where he was going, he said he was visiting you. It's almost as if I'm being blocked… that someone is clouding my thoughts…"

The Senator bit her lip. "Master Kenobi," she said seriously, "I think there's something about Anakin you should know…"

* * *

**Mwahaha! Who wants to kill Amidala? Hands up…! **

**Reviews are always welcome! They give you calcium. **


	6. The Blame Game

Chapter Six – _The Blame Game_

Author's Note: Sorry- not quite as speedy as you're accustomed to – this chapter was the hardest yet – even though it isn't that long. This is for everyone who couldn't wait for it to get Dark.

Ziggy Sternenstaub- Yes, that's Ani and Palpy – one's is a genius, the other insane!

Cmdr. Gabe E- I aim to please! Yes… this fic is disturbing. Even _I_ find it disturbing – and _I'm _writing it!

Jade Rhade- You thought of the pairing as well? All of us can be sick together! YAY!

Agny- Places hand over heart Thank you! Thank you! THANKYOU! I've always been a slash fan – provided it's in character! So I have to make it convincing otherwise I get no peace! You don't have to register to make an anonymous review. I hope the end of this chapter gives you an idea of how Ani will take the eventual revelation… poor kid.

Remember, this IS a slash fan fiction. It won't be terribly graphic slash – but it is slash all the same.

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

* * *

Palpatine's eyes shot open. He pushed himself away from Anakin and turned toward the main doors to his office. Moving at a speed Anakin could hardly credit, plum robes flying out behind him, the Chancellor whipped round to jab a button on the arm of his chair. On the far side of the room, a segment of wall slid noiselessly open, revealing a small, bare room, just big enough for four standing humans to fit into.

"Get in!" Palpatine hissed, roughly shoving the bulky Anakin in the direction of the hidden room.

"But what-?" Anakin tried to say, but the door slammed shut, leaving the Padawan in complete darkness.

_What's going on? _Anakin thought, groping around for a light switch. _Does he get some sort of thrill from locking me in his office hidey-hole? _Anakin listened carefully, there were no sounds coming from the office. Then, Anakin felt it. Obi-Wan's presence was close… it was just _muted_… as if blanketed by a thick mist.

"Master Kenobi, what a surprise!" Anakin heard the Chancellor greet Obi-Wan warmly. _He'll sense me! _Anakin panicked. _He knows where I am!_

"It is a surprise for me too, Your Excellency," Obi-Wan replied, "I was surprised I managed to get an unscheduled _audience _with Your Excellency…" There was a definite ironic element in Obi-Wan's tone.

"Oh, I'm_ always_ available to Jedi, Master Kenobi…" Palpatine countered smoothly. From his dark hiding place, Anakin would've sniggered if the situation had been so dire.

"That's good to know, Supreme Chancellor," said Obi-Wan in a friendly way. "Have you been _available_ to any Jedi recently?"

"Master Kenobi," the Chancellor snapped, "not by nature endowed with the mind reading skills available to one such as yourself, I will have to ask you what it is _exactly_ you are referring to?"

"Have you seen my apprentice?" the Jedi Knight asked pointedly_. He'll have his senses attuned to Palpatine's slightest emotion!_ Anakin thought desperately. _If he didn't know already he will now! Oh, by the Force, what am I going to **tell** him?_

The temperature in the office suddenly dropped to arctic levels. _"No,"_ said the Chancellor quietly, his voice glacial, "I haven't seen Anakin. In fact, the last time he contacted me was by hologram a few months ago to tell me that he was terminating our friendship because_ you_ didn't trust me. I see what he meant."

Anakin closed his eyes in horror. _He can't lie to a Jedi! Obi-Wan will see through it straight away!_ He waited with baited breath.

But believe it Obi-Wan did, or seemed to at any rate. "I'm sorry, Chancellor," his Master was saying, "I didn't mean to offend you."

Palpatine's reply, when it came, was dripping with acid, "Indeed?"

Anakin was almost crying with silent relief. _The Master of guilt trips is getting one sprung on him! _He tried to imagine the expression on his Master's face.

"Your Excellency," Obi-Wan began, changing the subject, "There's something about Anakin you should be aware of. He's developed an… infatuation with you."

Palpatine's laugh was just right. It was just the light dismissal that had filled Anakin's nightmares, so it seemed strange to him to actually hear it. It sent out three messages. One - that the prospect of a young Jedi having a crush on him was perfectly ludicrous, two - that if it were true it was extremely funny, and three – that Obi-Wan's concern was hardly warranted, considering Palpatine had absolutely no intentions of encouraging amorous behaviour from _that _quarter.

"Really?" he managed, when his mirth had subsided. "Oh_ my_… I had absolutely no idea. You're sure?"

"Yes, Supreme Chancellor… He confided in Senator Amidala." _That two-faced bitch, _Anakin thought, but he was too relieved to be angry.

"Well…" Palpatine said slowly, "If he comes to see me I'll let you know."

"Thankyou, Your Excellency," said Obi-Wan, "I'd be most grateful."

* * *

_"That was** brilliant!" **_cried Anakin, when door slid open again, "You were _perfect,_ where did you learn to_ lie _like that!"

"Anakin," said Palpatine seriously, clasping his hands together and shaking his head slowly, "Did that question involve any thought process at _all_?"

"Err…"

"I have spent over forty years in public service, and more than ten of those years actually _chairing_ the _Galactic Senate. _Where do you _think_ I learnt to lie like that, hmm?"

"But Obi-Wan's a Jedi _Master_!" explained Anakin. "You _can't_ lie to a Jedi Master!"

"You can't?" asked Palpatine, assuming a shocked expression.

"No!" said Anakin, not seeing the mocking gleam in the Chancellor's eyes.

"Oh, _Anakin_," said the Chancellor, leaning into the Padawan's embrace, "I wish you'd told me that_ before_ I started lying to Jedi Masters."

* * *

_"You told him!"_ Anakin roared at Padmé, "How could you tell him? I _TRUSTED_ YOU!"

They were in Senator Amidala's classic apartment. The sun was just setting, so the marbled room seemed ablaze with fiery light and long shadows. Anakin sent the furniture crashing with an angry gesture.

"But Anakin!" said the Senator, trying to be reasonable in the face of Anakin's rage. "Your Master was worried about you! I thought-!"

"You_ thought_? YOU THOUGHT!" Anakin's yells echoed around Padmé's apartment. "You weren't supposed to think! You were _supposed_ to keep your big mouth shut!" his eyes seemed to reflect the angry twilight, suddenly seeming strange and alien to Padmé.

_"Anakin!"_ Padmé shrieked back. "Don't you see it's not _right_! He's old enough to be your grandfather! It's disgusting – this... _obsession!_ _It's destroying you!"_

Anakin advanced on her, making Padmé stumble back, almost tripping over the hem of her blue dress. "_Anakin_… _please, I…!"_ she whimpered.

_"Don't you **dare** insult him!"_ Anakin snarled; his vision blurring. Anakin's hands reached for her neck, snapping around thin air.

"_You're_ the disgusting one!" he cried, bitter tears rolling down his hot cheeks.

But Padmé could no longer hear him.

* * *

Palpatine was awakened that night by a clammy hand stroking his face. He opened his eyes slowly and - reading the presence of his guest - with considerable eyelash fluttering.

Anakin was kneeling beside the bed, head bowed. The Chancellor leant over and lifted the boy's chin with a pale finger. "What's wrong?" he asked, reaching to cup Anakin's tearstained face.

"You'll _hate_ me!" Anakin wailed, shaking out of Palpatine's grip and stumbling across the room. _Pathetic, _the Chancellor thought.

_"She - insulted – you!"_ Anakin forced the words out "I… couldn't stand it! So I… _so I_…" He let out a choked sob and left the sentence dangling, clenching and unclenching his sweaty fists.

Palpatine very deliberatelydrew the silken coverlet up around him, like a cloak, and moved to Anakin's side, the oversize quilt trailing at least a metre behind him. In that dark, octagonal room, the all that could be heard was Anakin's quiet sobs and the rustle of wine-coloured silk.

Anakin clung to the Chancellor and together they sank to the floor, the painted gaze of Fate staring down at them, varnish glistening in the darkness.

"Calm down, Anakin…" Palpatine said softly, slowly drawing a hand across the boy's anguished face. "Tell me what happened…"

Voice shaky, Anakin told him. "But it's not my_ fault_!" he wept, "I didn't mean to! I was angry…"

"I don't blame you Anakin," Palpatine soothed. "Senator Amidala betrayed you. You have a _right _to be angry."

"But… _but_…" Anakin blubbered, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning into those comforting arms.

"You will not be punished," said Palpatine firmly, "I will make up some story. No one will ever know what really transpired. But you _must_ promise me something Anakin…"

Anakin looked up into those wise eyes. Then Anakin realised. _He's crying too… _

_"Anything,"_ he whispered hoarsely, "I'll do _anything_…"

"Promise me…" said Palpatine, leaning forward as if to kiss him, his voice barely audible. "…Promise me you'll never let anyone stand in the way of our love… not even your Master…"

"I promise," whispered Anakin as their lips touched. _"I promise…"_

* * *

**…And what, my dears, do we think of that?**


	7. To Save A Chancellor

Chapter Seven – _To Save a Chancellor_

**Author's Note: **I am continuing this story at great personal expense! To make it believable and have all relevant information at my fingertips I have purchased the Revenge of the Sith book. This chapter is dedicated to Ziggy Sternenstaub – who helped me realise the full potential of a death I originally intended as simply a dramatic plot device and Deliverance - who wanted it to get dark and who leaves such wonderful reviews.

Lady Vader 2884- They love me, they really love me! Oh dear… I seem to be having such an effect on people!

Princess Desire- "Lord Vader, there's a delivery for you…" (Thrust's bunch of flowers under his nose) "Courtesy of the Emperor…" Oh my! Some people have worse imaginations than me! Glad you like it!

Maelicia – Cute… CUTE? I know two Dark Lords of the Sith who'd be very upset by your comments! But I agree with you!

Deliverance- This is where the fun begins…

Bood – I love Ani/Palpy… it's just such fun!

Agny- I am _deeply_ honoured by your praise and your great offering of a review. But you're right – my secrets are mine to keep. They make me _strong_… Right now I am in two minds about the disfigurement. It could go either way – for both of them. But I do intend to take this as far as I can.

Ziggy – Your review was INSPIRING! Only _your _Force guided lack of sleep could possibly divine the_ true _destiny of Padmé – To become a cross between JFK and Princess Diana! When Palpatine tells someone he'll "make up some story," he doesn't stint.

WARNING! SERIOUSLY TWISTED SLASH!

**Disclaimer: **None of it is mine. Not even the pairing! I own nothing! All belongs to the great and powerful George Lucas!

* * *

The death of Senator Amidala, born Padmé Narberrie of Naboo caused a holo-media sensation. On every HoloNet channel they seemed to be showing a documentary on the beautiful Senator's life. In a strange twist of fate, her previously waning popularity soared after her death, prompting one Coruscanti to comment that: "Senator Amidala is possibly the only delegate in the history of the Republic who stands a chance of reaching the Chancellorship posthumously."

Her body was sent back to Naboo, there to receive a State funeral. The Supreme Chancellor himself attended, delivering a stunning eulogy which was broadcast live to the galaxy at large. At one point he simply broke down, but continued, through floods of tears, to describe the angelic Amidala.

Everyone wanted to know who was responsible. They still do. The facts, as far as almost anyone will tell you, are these.

The evening after her impassioned plea for the re-opening of negotiations with the Separatists, Senator Amidala was found dead in her apartment with considerable damage to her windpipe.

But after the autopsy, it was found that her actual death had occurred sometime after the attack on her throat, at least an hour if not more, when a deadly poison was administered to her system.

The public was baying for her murderer's blood, but there were almost no clues to her assassin's identity. The Senator objected to security feeds in her private rooms and the outside cams had blank footage for the entire night. Although her furniture had been smashed, there were no prints or DNA on either the Senator or her apartment: the forensic scanners found nothing.

Amidala had been alone that evening as she had disbanded her security a week before as a protest against the further augmentation of the Chancellor's Guard. She had sent her handmaid on an errand and the only information anyone got from the weeping girl was that the Senator had been expecting someone.

The Coruscant security forces had secretly arrested the bounty hunter Janqui Vanc for the murder of the Senator, but someone leaked the arrest to the media and the affair was all over the Republic in a matter of hours.

The entire galaxy eagerly awaited Vanc's trial in the Supreme Court, keen to hear the evidence against the human Vanc.

But, in an unexpected climax, Janqui Vanc was shot, just as he was being escorted into court. Hundreds of witnesses in Monument Square saw Tenil Ban, a citizen of Naboo; pull the trigger, claiming to do it, "For Amidala!"

Tenil Ban was sentenced to life imprisonment and maintained to his death that he had acted for the good of the galaxy and because he knew that no matter how guilty Janqui Vanc was, he would never get the death he deserved under Republican law. Those who had known Ban dismissed him as a local hot-head, eager for limelight, while the many who didn't wondered if this was merely another move by the real mastermind.

Conspiracy theories abounded, involving everyone from the Chancellor to the Jedi themselves. Who had Senator Amidala's guest been? What prompted Janqui Vanc's arrest? Why, if the attacker had had opportunity before, had they resorted to poison? If poison was the aim to begin with – then why was there a fight?

The expert opinion was that there had, in fact, been two assassins. The evidence displayed, some said, two very different styles. The one, hot-headed, impulsive, a violent guest: but not a murderer. The other, a poisoner, cold-blooded, deliberate, meticulous; _he_ was the real murderer. This, explained the experts, interviewed at great length, was the most likely explanation. But even this theory had flaws, such as why, if this was truly the case, had the second person removed all evidence of the first, when clearly it was in their interest to pin the blame on someone else?

Everyone had an opinion. They still do. But even the most deluded theorists, who claim that the Senator did not die at all, but had been transported to another dimension by little blue men, would have been hard put to credit the truth.

…A truth that Anakin Skywalker had to live with every day of his life; a truth that had driven him even further into the arms of his lover, the one person who understood. The only person prepared to forgive his terrible crime.

But even the comforts only Palpatine could provide had been stripped from him. The Clone Wars raged on and the tortured young Jedi had no choice but to fight.

Anakin fought, but he had ceased to fight for the Republic. He fought for his lover, and to purge himself of the storm wracking his soul. Anakin fought. He fought on so many planets he lost count of their number and ceased to remember their names. He fought for his sanity.

* * *

Obi-Wan had not seen Anakin since the boy's –_the man's_ – knighthood ceremony. Kenobi had hoped that his apprentice would forgive him for telling the Chancellor about Anakin's infatuation. Returning to the Temple that night, he had discovered the then Padawan deep in meditation. They had not spoken.

_He was trained too old_, Obi-Wan thought, picturing Anakin's stony expression. _He doesn't have the self control, the reserve of the true Jedi. It's my fault. _

"Urgent message for you, sir!" a clone trooper interrupted his train of thought.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, listened to the message. The battle front was no longer a front; the war had penetrated the very heard of the Republic…

…And very possibly, the heart of his former Padawan.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker listened to the message.

_"You are required to return to Coruscant. The capitol is under attack and the Chancellor has been captured by General Grievous. Rendezvous with General Kenobi at these co-ordinates and rescue the Chancellor. All indications point to Grievous's flagship: 'The Invisible Hand'. Hurry."_

For a moment Anakin just stood there, uncomprehending. It was impossible, could not be happening. _The Chancellor has been captured by General Grievous. _

_The Chancellor has been captured..._

Palpatine had been captured and Anakin had not been there. A conversation flashed through his mind.

_"It will **never **come to that,"_ Anakin had said. _"I will protect you."_

They had embraced and that small body had been warm and secure in Anakin's arms. A sensation, Anakin suddenly realised, he might never feel again.

Anakin had failed to save someone once before. He would _not_ fail a second time.

* * *

The two Jedi starfighters burst out of Hyperspace with a spectral flash. Compared to the massive battle being fought in the skies of Coruscant, they were mere pinpricks, insignificant compared to the vast warfare being waged, the thousands of deaths, the sheer magnitude of the slaughter.

But one of them contains the very reason this battle is being fought at all. _The best opening move in a game of dejarik, _the Supreme Chancellor considered,_ is a completely obvious one, in plain sight of your opponent. That way, they will assume they grasp your strategy. _One corner of his thin mouth jerked up in amusement. _But how can they grasp my strategy, _he considered, gazing out at the battle surrounding him, _when I am playing on an entirely different board?_

The near loss of his beloved would surely be enough to loose the final ties that bound Anakin to the light. _Soon…_ with Dooku neatly dealt with by Anakin, and the unsuspecting Jedi at Palpatine's mercy, everything would be in place for the final stage of his plan: his coup de grace, his flawless masterpiece.

To Darth Sidious there was no battle. He saw, angles, pieces, interconnecting lines, every single one a facet in his great plan. Everything moved according to his design.

* * *

_We are here, _Anakin thought, tension permeating his body. _I will save him. I **must!**_

The two Jedi stared out of the turbo-lift. The lights were off; the ship was too badly damaged to sustain the drain on the power systems. Twin blue blades ignited, moving slowly, in unison towards General's Quarters'. The room which R2-D2 had confirmed was the Chancellor's current location.

There appeared to be no guards up here, so close to their destination. Both Jedi know it to be a trap, but the importance of the bait was such that they had no choice but to spring it and attempt to turn the tide.

The doors to the General's Quarters' flew open with the flick of a switch. The far wall seemed to be an opening into chaos. The sky glowed with the fire of turbolaser blasts, the collision of the resulting shrapnel and the brilliant flares of failing engines. Against this hellish backdrop a chair was positioned.

_They're forcing him to watch the destruction of Coruscant. _The thought made Anakin's jaw clench, and his heart began to pulse so loudly, it eliminated all other sounds. Suddenly the ship shuddered, almost knocking them off their feet, and the lighting switched back on.

Anakin couldn't move. Palpatine's face was highlighted in the harsh emergency lighting. Anakin felt that something should have happened, that he should have whooped and raced over to his lover, or that some excitement should have stirred in his soul.

Instead, his heart sank. Palpatine looked older than Anakin had ever seen him. Those heavy-lidded eyes were filled with pain and the lines on his face appeared like cracks in a piece of china, still together, but the slightest tremor could cause them to shatter. Shackled to the chair, slight form encased in heavy, dark blue robes, Palpatine was truly helpless.

_Don't be afraid, _Anakin wanted to say, _I'll save you. _But he couldn't say the words.

Obi-Wan reached Palpatine first. "Chancellor," he greeted the shackled Palpatine, bowing slightly as if this was merely a meeting in the Chancellor's office.

"Anakin, _behind_ you!" was the Chancellor's tense response. But Anakin could already feel the chill of the presence behind him, could feel the arrogant smirk on Count Dooku's distinguished face. A white hot rage built up inside him, flaring upwards making his head spin.

"General Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker. Gentlemen – and I use the word in the loosest possible sense – you are now my prisoners."

_That's what you think. _

"You_ must_ get help!" the Chancellor whispered hoarsely, "neither of you are any match for a Sith Lord!"

_That's what you think._

"Chancellor," said Obi-Wan smoothly, shifting his stance to anticipate the coming attack, "Sith Lords are our speciality."

* * *

_Oh, indeed, Master Kenobi? _Palpatine almost smiled. Lightsabers whirled around the room, and he followed their movements with an idle interest. For him, there was no fight, just as there was no battle. The outcome had been determined long ago. He had already seen this moment.

Kenobi was sent crashing into the wall by Tyranus. _Sith Lords are our speciality… indeed! What arrogant posturing!_ The Jedi Master had no conception of the events truly taking place here.

Now it was just Dooku and Anakin, his old apprentice verses his new apprentice – not that either of them realised that, of course. "Don't fear what you're feeling, Anakin," he called out. "Rage is your weapon, _use it_!"

His words were the catalyst he intended. Anakin was stripped of all brakes, all the skill of Darth Tyranus was no match for Anakin's white hot fury.

_Ah, Tyranus… You always did lack a certain passion. A quality my new apprentice possesses in abundance. _

The ship was beginning to break apart. _It is time to end this charade._

An amusing tableau… Tyranus on his knees before Anakin, who held both lightsabers, crossed over each other, prepared to sever the Sith Lord's neck. Palpatine enjoyed the sight of the red blade in Anakin's sweaty hand. _As you are, as you will be…_

"Good, Anakin, good! I _knew_ you could do it." But the boy only looked perplexed, unsure of what to do next. _Oh, how indecisive he is without the guidance of his Master. _

"Kill him," Palpatine said calmly. Those cold eyes locked with those of his one-time apprentice. _Only now, at the end, do you understand. _He savours the words as he gazes into the shocked eyes of the victim. "Kill him _now_."

Yet Anakin hesitates. The Chancellor's lips curl. _"Do it!"_

A whirring of blades and it's over.

* * *

Anakin stared down at the body of the man he just killed… in cold blood. An unarmed prisoner – he just killed a helpless prisoner!

But a voice drew him out of despair, a voice as smooth as rough silk. "You did well Anakin," Palpatine said warmly. Anakin transferred his gaze to the Chancellor. "You did right. He was too dangerous to let live."

It was the work of a moment to release the restraints binding Palpatine to the chair, and then they were in each others' arms and suddenly, for Anakin, nothing else was real, not the battle raging around them, not even the dead body at their feet. All that mattered was that they were together. That the Chancellor's frail body was encased in his, that he was running his fingers through that fine white hair.

"I… I was afraid you weren't coming…" Palpatine whispered, his voice quivering slightly.

_"Never," _said Anakin intensely, as they broke apart, "You're my life. Without you I would die."

The ship rocked, Anakin's hand shot out to balance the Chancellor. But Palpatine shook himself out of Anakin's arms and began to pick his way carefully towards the exit. "Come Anakin," he called, "there is little time."

But Anakin's gaze now rested on his unconscious Master. The floor shifted again, leaving the Chancellor clinging to the doorframe and almost knocking Anakin over.

"Obi-Wan-!" he yelled through the explosions shaking the ship.

"Leave him!" shouted the Chancellor from the doorway. "You _promised_ me!"

But Anakin looked down at his Master and discovered he just couldn't do it.

"His fate," Anakin declared, not looking at the speechless Palpatine; "will be the same as ours."

* * *

They managed to reach the turbo-lift lobby; Anakin running with his former Master slung over his shoulder, the Chancellor not far behind. Palpatine was seized by a fit of coughing, brought on by the smoke that was beginning to fill the lobby. The walls were damaged and naked, sizzling, power lines were visible.

"Artoo?" Anakin called into his comlink, hoping the blasted thing was still working. "Artoo, do you copy? I need you to activate-" Anakin blinked and squinted, trying to see through the smoke, "-elevator three-two-two-four! _Three-two-two-four!_ Do you copy?"

The comlink emitted a faint beep and the elevator doors slid open, but the ship's gravity vector shifted again, sending them all sliding back towards the opposite corner of the room. Anakin used the Force to lift Obi-Wan back onto his shoulders, and got to his feet, but Palpatine, still coughing and hampered by his heavy robes, was struggling to rise.

"Stay down," Anakin told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Palpatine nodded mutely; too weak to protest. Then the gravity shifted again, turning the corner they were in a few seconds ago into ceiling.

Anakin looked across at the shaft. Now it was merely a long, dark tunnel. _They would have to be fast. _He glanced back at the wheezing Chancellor. "Can you run?" he asked, eyes flicking back to the shaft – now corridor.

"I… haven't run since I was a boy on Naboo…" Palpatine gasped.

"Well, here's your chance!"

* * *

They were a third of the way back to the hanger bay when Anakin felt the gravity shift again: turning their destination from black tunnel ahead to black shaft _below_.

Darth Sidious clenched his teeth; he was beginning to be frustrated by this situation… He gripped Anakin's ankle, knuckles white, just managing to contain his ice-cold fury. Of course, he could easily slow his fall – but who would believe a mere Chancellor could pull off a move like that? No, he would have to continue to grip Anakin's ankle like a Mon Calamari Ervi-crab, until a further development occurred. Unfortunately, the further development looked rather stark. "Anakin, _do_ something!" he cried desperately.

It was at this moment that Kenobi decided to wake up.

"Umm… have I missed something?" asked the perplexed Jedi Master, staring down at the Chancellor. _No, you infernal Jedi, _Palpatine wanted to roar, _we do this for amusement!_

"We're in a bit of a situation here," Anakin replied. He explained what had just happened.

They heard this distant roar of the turbo-lift. "Jump," said Anakin simply.

"_Jump?"_ the Chancellor gasped, "don't you mean _fall?"_

"Actually… yes."

They fell.

* * *

The gravity shifted again, sending the three of them tumbling into a corridor, landing in a heap in the corner of another lobby. Eventually they managed to disentangle themselves, Anakin hauling Chancellor Palpatine to his feet.

They made their way down the corridor, Anakin supporting Palpatine. Suddenly, a shimmering blue energy field rose up around them, trapping them inside. _Wonderful, _Anakin groaned.

"It's the Dark Side," said Obi-Wan tersely. "I don't understand… the death of Dooku should have removed its presence."

_That's what you think._

"If you've a taste for mysteries," Palpatine snapped, "perhaps you should consider how we are to _escape?_"

Obi-Wan scowled and sank his lightsaber into the floor. For a moment he was sure… but lightning crackled around his lightsaber up from the floor. "Nope," he said, "any ideas?"

"Perhaps…" said Palpatine thoughtfully, "we should surrender to General Grievous and… once there… the two of you can pursue your… _negotiations_?"

"Well…" said Obi-Wan doubtfully, stroking his ginger beard.

Just then, six massive white droids, easily two meters tall came up on either side of them. They were carrying staffs with sizzling purple energy at either end, similar to the force-pikes of the Chancellor's Guard. They wore swirling white capes and looked extremely deadly.

"Hand_ over_ your weapons, _Jedi_!" one of them barked.

Anakin leaned over to the Chancellor, "Looks like you get your way after all," he murmured.

Palpatine's smile was unreadable, "Iinvariably do," he said quietly.

* * *

Palpatine's plan worked and Anakin had managed to pilot that screaming hulk of a flagship to a crash landing on a Coruscant runway. There was one problem with this: General Grievous had escaped.

Anakin had been told to – no, _ordered_ to – enjoy the festivities by Obi-Wan. If only it had been that simple. He wanted more than anything to stay close to the Chancellor, to escort that absolutely exhausted man home. But first the Chancellor had to address the Senate.

Finally, hours later, fireworks blazing in the night sky where not so long ago ship cannon and laser had been, Anakin and Palpatine were alone, both gazing out the curved transparasteel window at the celebrations. "It will be short lived," said the Chancellor sadly, Anakin's arm wrapped around his aching shoulders.

Anakin said nothing, merely enjoying this quiet moment between them, looking at the fireworks.

_"Anakin…"_ Palpatine turned inwards so that his head rested against Anakin's firm chest, and those warm fingers began to twine through his hair. "I was so frightened. I have no experience of combat… I don't know how you stand it. I'm not a warrior, Anakin. You won't… let that happen again, will you? I don't think I couldn't bear it."

_"Never again,"_ said Anakin, his voice a taunt string of emotion. "You will _never_ be in danger while there's life in this body. _Never_."

He lifted Palpatine into his arms and carried him to bed. They huddled together under the sheets. The Chancellor fell asleep almost immediately, while Anakin lay awake, staring up at Fate.

_Well? _He couldn't help asking the inscrutable figure,_ what are you planning now?_

* * *

**(Exhales) Oh my goodness that took a while! Leave a review, please. I'm going to bed too. This is the edited version - the first, posted just before my dreamtime - had a few errors.**


	8. What Dreams Are Made Of

Chapter Eight – _What Dreams Are Made Of_

**Author's Note: **Wow… I never expected this kind of response from readers. I guess I expected little interest and quite a few flames. But – obviously I was wrong! Just thanks to you all. You're all… _excellent. _Right, you guys could have had this chapter about three days earlier... but the stupid site wouldn't let me log in! So here it is... finally!

LL- Why thank you - but it can never be too good. Always something wrong, I find! I appreciate the tip – sometimes I just want to tell everybody's side of the story!

Lady Vader 2884- (Gobbles up her cookie VERY messily) Now_ I_ want more!

Ziggy – She is? Someone's gone down in the world! Your unique comments warm my little evil soul!

Heike- Yes – I finished that last chapter at four o' clock in the morning. Argh… when inspiration strikes – make sure there's a computer in your room!

Cmdr. Gabe E- Oh my… "YOUR BOYFRIEND, THE CHACELLOR…" somehow I just never thought of him that way. It's just NOT something you SAY about Palpy! But, yes, I suppose he is!

Agny – I'm updating, I'm updating! You must learn PATIENCE! Only_ then _can you set up an elaborate plot to rule the galaxy! But yes, your (actually not so) small reviews butter up my ego immensely.

Darkside Doris - Wow, I know what you mean by "giggling with joy all week," because it's happened with me with other fanfictions... but for my story to do that... I'm absolutely thrilled!

Lady Sidious- I know, there should be more Palpatine romance. I spent ages searching the net for the stuff and finally just decided to write one myself.

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

* * *

Dreams are our thoughts, our scrambled visions. For those gifted with knowledge of the Force, dreams skip in and out of a life stream, giving them an image of what is, what was, and what could be. 

But dreams also show us our fears. While we lie slumbering, fear can infest our consciousness, drawing a shadow over our waking life.

To Darth Sidious, dreams are a weapon, a means to covertly attack, slipping the dagger of fear into the heart of the victim, of filling him up – ready for slaughter.

* * *

_"Anakin help me!"_ the Chancellor cried, vivid blue lightning crackling around him. "_Help me!_ I… I can't hold on any longer!" He writhed in pain, like a small creature caught in a snare. "He's _killing_ me, _Anakin!_ _Anakin…! Arrrrrrrrgggghhhhhh!"_

Anakin's eyes snapped open, the vision of the dying Palpatine still blazing in his mind. He blinked his eyes, trying to banish the anguished screams for his thoughts. The room was silent but for the quiet breathing of the being who lay beside him. Anakin moved over to touch the sleeping Chancellor –to make sure he was really there. Palpatine's face was peaceful; a state Anakin couldn't remember seeing him in for a long time. His thin mouth was open a fraction and his face was tinged blue by the moonlight. The sheets appeared a plain black in the darkness, highlighting his pallid skin. His nostrils quivered slightly as he inhaled.

Anakin moved so that he could feel the rise and fall of that frail chest against his own. He draped one arm protectively over Palpatine; half imagining some unknown assailant would suddenly burst into possibly one of the most secure bedrooms in that galaxy and attempt to murder his love. "Anakin?" the Chancellor murmured sleepily, shifting deeper into Anakin's grasp, "Are you all right?" It was too dark to see the concern in those eyes, but Anakin felt Palpatine's worry.

"It was nothing," lied Anakin. He put his mechanical hand next to the Chancellor's face. "You should rest – don't worry about me."

The tension seeped out of Palpatine's body with a small sigh and he drifted back to sleep. But Anakin got no more rest that night.

* * *

Anakin was in the kitchen, staring out at the traffic and the busy reconstruction crews who toiled as far as he could see. It was late morning and the sky was already a smoky blue. Anakin sat on a stool, kicking his bare heels against its legs, shoulder-length, dark blond hair unkempt, and still in his black, nerf wool pyjamas. 

It was the first time Anakin had ever woken up first. Palpatine had no alarm, but he always got up hours before Anakin, always immaculate by the time Anakin was even _considering _opening his eyes.

So it was a shock to him when Palpatine emerged into the kitchen, heavy-lidded eyes barely open, ice white hair uncombed and sticking up in odd places, feet encased in grey velvet slippers, his body wrapped in a soft, burgundy dressing-gown, which he wore over the top of the black, silken calottes and the matching, almost formal, shirt he usually wore to bed.

"I have no meetings today," he said by way of explanation. "I _do_ have work, but I can complete it here. After the past few days' _ordeal_, I feel I deserve it."

Anakin wanted to grin, but the other Palpatine kept screaming in his head, begging for Anakin to help him. He closed his eyes and turned away.

"Anakin?" the Chancellor stood beside him, "Anakin, what is wrong? I _know_ there's something."

"I… had a bad dream," Anakin admitted, trying not to look at that face, a face he had seen seized with fear.

"Like the ones you used to have?" asked Palpatine softly.

"I… _yes_… but…"

"But _what_, Anakin?"

"But this one," Anakin gulped. There was knot in his throat. "This one was about _you_."

Anakin got up and gently embraced Palpatine, who stared back at him wordlessly.

"About _me?"_ he finally managed; an almost imperceptible catch in his voice. "Anakin, I am much older than you. It is natural that I will die first. I know this is hard to accept, but-"

"It wasn't _that_ kind of death!" Anakin snapped. "You were being _murdered!"_

_"Murdered?"_ the Chancellor whispered; a hint of fear in his voice. But then the old Palpatine returned: the one who chaired the Senate, who accepted setbacks calmly and whose sheer willpower was responsible for holding the process of government together.

"Anakin, I know this sounds strange coming from me, but… what can you possibly do to prevent this that you can't do already? It was just a dream. It will not come to pass if you do not let it. I _trust_ you, Anakin."

"I know," Anakin said. _But I do not trust myself._

* * *

It was the late afternoon, although the sky appeared somewhat greyer than usual, as one of Coruscant's orbital mirrors had been fractured during the fighting – was that truly only yesterday? 

Yesterday, Obi-Wan Kenobi's duty had been clear, his judgement certain. Now…

He looked across the cityscape to the mushroom shaped Senate building. Even now, they were in the process of passing an amendment to the Security Act.

An amendment that would place the Office of the Chancellor directly in control of the Jedi Council, and this control the Chancellor would _reluctantly accept_, of course.

_He will continue to reluctantly accept extra authority in the name of security until he reluctantly accepts dictatorship for life._

It had become apparent that Darth Sidious was ensconced in the highest reaches of the government. Their intelligence network had traced the mysterious Sith Lord into tunnels leading directly into the sub-basements of the 500 Republica – a building that had become a byword for influence, power and wealth.

_Palpatine is not our enemy – yet. But it is clear that he is under the influence of the Sith Master. When the time comes we must act, whatever the cost… _

The cost, Obi-Wan thought sadly, could be the Chosen One. Yesterday's rescue had made it clear to Obi-Wan that Anakin was still bound to the Chancellor by something much stronger than oaths.

If the Council moved against Palpatine, he could no longer be sure that Anakin would be on their side.

* * *

Anakin had not slept well for the last three nights. Each night, that terrible vision invaded his thoughts. 

Anakin had to act, but he did not know what he could do. He had not acted fast enough to save his mother, but he would be ready this time. He knew this was no mere dream, that if he let it, it would come to pass.

Like his mother, Palpatine was not strong enough to save himself. He relied on Anakin and Anakin would not fail him.

Somehow, Anakin would find a way.

* * *

Anakin found Obi-Wan standing outside on one of the Jedi Temple landing platforms, looking up at the darkening sky. The lights of upper Coruscant were just beginning to turn on, the grey clouds reflecting their colour in a hazy glow. 

"Anakin," said the Jed Master without turning round, "I need to talk with you."

Anakin sensed that something was wrong. "What is it?" he asked, hoping it had nothing to do with what he suspected it did. "Something's troubling you – I can tell."

"Anakin…" said Obi-Wan carefully, "I want to talk to you, not as a member of the Jedi Council, but as your friend. I _am_ your friend, aren't I?"

"Of course-!"

"_No_, Anakin, there are no _of courses_ anymore."

"What do you mean?" asked Anakin, perplexed.

"Anakin, relations between the Jedi Council and the Chancellor are… _stressed_. Tell me honestly: are you still in love with him?"

There was a pause. Anakin looked down at the landing pad. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Then I am asking you, as a friend, to be wary of Palpatine. Don't let your personal feelings cloud your judgement."

Anakin stepped back, _"What do you mean?"_ he asked; voice low and threatening.

"I shouldn't be telling you this…" Obi-Wan's voice was pained. "But evidence has come to light that proves that Darth Sidious is someone close to the Chancellor – perhaps even his Inner Council. I know you'll never believe Palpatine to be… _intentionally_ evil… But, he may be caught in some move by the Sith."

Suddenly, everything fell into place. The burning blue lightening that surrounded Palpatine in his dreams was the product of no mere electro-weapon – but _Force lightening_. His love was going to be murdered by the Sith Lord.

_"Anakin!"_ Obi-Wan yelled as Anakin turned and ran, sprinting as fast as he could to the place where his speeder lay, waiting to take him to Palpatine.

"Anakin – _wait!"_

* * *

The Supreme Chancellor's office was quiet. The sinister red-robed bodyguards, who guarded the Chancellor day and night, let him through wordlessly. 

Anakin had often been amused by Palpatine's annoyance at the necessity of a personal guard. He said he "was aware of the importance of their services," but loathed their "invasion" of his privacy. So he had simply fitted them in, like so many new sculptures. Their masks were similar to the stylised heads of many of Palpatine's pieces and the colour of their robes was a perfect match to the crimson carpet. This, in Anakin opinion, only made them scarier. To which the Chancellor smiled slightly and said he hoped others would appreciate his taste.

Palpatine's lamps were on, striking shadows in the warm reds of the room. The very stillness of the place frustrated Anakin and made him feel uncomfortable.

The Chancellor stood, looking out the window, one pale hand reaching out to touch the transparasteel. He wore a simple robe of black brocade, perhaps as a gesture of mourning for the many that died in the battle for Coruscant.

He was surprised to see Anakin, but gratified all the same. The Jedi stood behind him. Smoke still filled the skies of Coruscant, making the early evening seem like night. "Do you see, Anakin," said Palpatine feelingly, "do you see what they have done to our magnificent city?" He was obviously struggling to contain his emotion. "We _cannot_ allow such… such…"

Anakin put his arms around the Chancellor's shaking shoulders, pulling him backwards slightly. _It doesn't matter, _he wanted to say, _all that matters is you. _But the selfishness of that statement appalled Anakin, all the more so because it was true.

"The Jedi know who the Sith Master is," said Anakin suddenly. There was a sharp intake of breath from Palpatine. "They believe it's someone on your Inner Council."

"Really?" the Chancellor replied evenly."Are you sure?"

"Yes… and… and I think the Sith Lord is going to try to kill you."

* * *

**So confused, he is. Things are coming to a head. The next chapter I will call 'A Night at the Opera.' Hmm… you will see – Sith Lords: A Comedy in Two Parts. Review – it helps. Or if insanity persists, see your local healthcare professional. **


	9. A Night At The Opera

Chapter Nine – _A Night at the Opera_

**Author's Note: **I have been very ill all week and this may or may not affect this chapter – hopefully not.

Lady Vader 2884- Yes! Soon I shall have ALL the cookies in the cookie jar!

Agny- I'm flattered to be classed along with that amazing web-doc! As to the sex… well I'm not giving anything away.

Lady Sidious- In terms of the details, I'm training to be a theatrical costume designer and… I just can't resist luxuriating over Palpatine's clothes and apartment. (Begins to drool…)

Darkside Doris- You really do leave the kind of review the renders a girl speechless - but not quite! - Another person screaming for sex? Well… read…

Ziggy – I was in _agonies _over that little gasp! Was it good? Was it bad? Blah, blah, blah… I am so glad you commented on it –taken a weight off my mind! _A Day at the Races! _Hmm… I suddenly have a vision of Palpatine in one of those ridiculous race hats…!

Lamfear 1- You know, I really don't know whether darling Palpy gives a damn about Anakin… Power tripping sod.

Spelljammer: You want an up-himself Chancellor? You _get_ an up-himself Chancellor! Mr. Palpatine is indeed commencing to wine and dine a certain Jedi.

LL- As soon as I finish answering all these reviews, I'll read your story. I hope you appreciate what I forced myself to write in this chapter. Honestly, it was meant to be a _plot_ driven story! I just can't breath for the demands for intercourse!

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner

* * *

. 

The two Jedi sat in one of the darkened meditation rooms in the temple, cross-legged, opposite each other on the soft beige seats.

Master Windu leaned forward, his dark eyes opaque in the dim light. "What is the exact nature of Skywalker's friendship with Palpatine?" he asked Obi-Wan seriously.

"It's… complicated," said Obi-Wan, frowning. There was a moment of silence while the younger Master assembled his thoughts. "Anakin is… deeply attached to the Chancellor. They have been friends for a long time."

Mace Windu digested this. "Be mindful of Anakin," he said, leaning forward, "and above all, be wary of Palpatine, his influence over Anakin is dangerous."

"But Anakin is the Chosen One…"

"All the more reason to fear the influence of an outsider."

_I'm sorry Anakin, _Obi-Wan thought sadly, _but this isn't just about you anymore._

"There's something I haven't told you," said Obi-Wan haltingly.

"Yes?"

"Anakin is… romantically attached to the Chancellor."

Mace Windu stared at him. "You are… certain of this?" he said finally, disbelieving.

"I am,"

"Then it is worse than I thought."

* * *

Anakin sped towards the 500 Republica, a recent conversation with Obi-Wan still in his head. 

_The Chancellor is gaining far too much power, _Obi-Wan had said.

How dare they accuse Palpatine of what… despotism? After all the man had done for the Republic! Worn himself out in the service of democracy. As if he wanted extra powers – he already had far too much work as it was. He came to bed exhausted, too tired for anything more than sleep.

All Obi-Wan seemed to do was try and push him away from Palpatine, with cryptic warnings about the Chancellor's motives. _He should know better_, Anakin thought angrily.

Anakin accelerated, his deep blue eyes becoming slits. Perhaps it wasn't the Sith who would be responsible or the death of his love… perhaps it would be-? The speeder came to a shrieking halt. Had he truly just though that? Anakin rubbed his eyes. _I need more sleep._

* * *

It was early evening and the sun was just beginning to sink beneath the horizon as Anakin's speeder touched down on the Chancellor's private landing platform. The sky was just turning to a faint pink, but Anakin could tell it was going to be one of those spectacular Coruscant sunsets. 

When Anakin walked in, Palpatine was sitting on one of his comfortable black couches with his back to the Jedi.Hearing Anakin's footsteps, he stood up slowly and turned towards him.

Anakin stopped. The Chancellor was dressed up, which was a strange thing to say in itself. His sweeping outercloak shone like a dark opal, the trailing sleeves were done in gold embroidery, as was the cummerbund. His inner robes were of dark velvet – Anakin wanted to reach out and smooth his fingers down the rich fabric.

"You look…" _magnificent, wonderful, brilliant! _But what he actually said was "…_regal_…"

Palpatine chuckled, "That wasn't _quite_ the intention, Anakin."

"I mean it looks good!"

"I'll forgive you under one condition," said the Chancellor, a slight smile playing around his lips.

"What?" asked Anakin, sitting down on the arm of the black couch.

"You come to the ballet with me."

"What?" Anakin repeated.

"Come with me to the ballet tonight."

"But…" Anakin started to grin, "I don't know _anything_ about ballet!"

"Then your cultural education starts tonight."

* * *

The two of them walked up the carpeted steps of the Galaxies Opera House, surrounded by the Chancellor's Guard. Anakin felt distinctly out of place among the crowds of overdressed beings. He could hear the distant sounds of the orchestra tuning up. Anakin fought off the impulse to take Palpatine's arm. _He's mine, _he wanted to say to everyone who bowed respectfully or politely greeted the Chancellor. 

Palpatine nodded and smiled, making his was sedately up the stairs, daintily holding the front of his robes a few inches off the floor to avoid tripping up. "Don't look so tense," he whispered to Anakin. "You're here to_ enjoy_ yourself."

"Don't be so sure," said Anakin gloomily, making the Chancellor sigh androll his eyes exasperatedly.

* * *

Palpatine knew full well that Anakin would never appreciate the art he was witnessing tonight. It was disgusting how the Jedi deprived their initiates of the merest hint of culture. They two of them were seated in the Chancellor's private box, and the Palpatine was sure that if the boy wasn't so well trained in Jedi discipline he would be fidgeting. Sitting with the agitated Anakin beside him, Palpatine's enjoyment of the Mon Calamari ballet was seriously cut short. 

For both of them, the interval couldn't come soon enough.

"So," Palpatine said when the lights came up at half-time. "What do you think of the story so far?" _Not that there's much of a chance you appreciated any of it._

"I… um… thought it was good." _Oh, really?_

"Actually, it reminded me of the '_Tragedy of Darth Plagueis'_…" _Go on: admit it. You didn't understand one whit of the narrative.._

"_Darth_ Plagueis?" Anakin echoed, frowning slightly "Was he a Sith?"

Palpatine settled more comfortably into his chair. "Yes, so I don't suppose you'd have heard of him. It's not a story any of your Jedi Masters would tell you."

"What happened?" Anakin asked curiously.

"It's the legend of a Dark Lord who turned his sight so deeply inward that he came to comprehend and master life itself. According to the legend he could directly influence the midi-chlorians to create life. Armed with such knowledge, maintaining life in someone already living would seem a simple matter, don't you agree?"

Anakin's eyes widened and the boy's fingers dug into the soft arms of his chair. _It's all_ _so appallingly easy, _Palpatine thought smugly.

"…Stronger than _death_?" Anakin murmured, amazed.

_Oh, yes dear boy, very mach stronger than death. Don't worry; you'll be able to **save** your beloved Chancellor…_

They sat there for a few moments, staring at the shimmering zero-g bubble that constituted the stage.

"So… what happened?" asked Anakin finally, shaking himself slightly.

"Well, it_ is_ a tragedy after all. Once he has gained this amazing power, the only thing he fears is to lose it. So, to safeguard his power's existence he teaches the pathway towards it to his apprentice…"

"And…?"

Palpatine shrugged his shoulders luxuriantly, his face a tight smirk."And his apprentice kills him in his sleep," he said crisply. "Plagueis never sees it coming. That's the tragic irony, of course. _Not even the most powerful Sith Lord can save himself from death."_

"What happens to the apprentice?"

_He decides to take up politics. _"Oh, him,"said Palpatine dismissively. "Well _he_ goes on to become the greatest Dark Lord the Sith have ever known…"

The Chancellor smoothed his robes, closing his eyes for a moment.

"So," said Anakin slowly, as if weighing each word, "it's only a tragedy for_ Plagueis_, for the apprentice it's a _happy_ ending…"

_A feature of many such Sith tales, I think you'll find. _"Oh… well. Yes… quite right. I'd never actually thought of it in that way." _Or rather, I had, but I'm hardly likely to tell you that am I?_

"What if," said Anakin, sitting up, barely containing his excitement, "it's not just a legend… what if someone actually _had_ this power…?"

Palpatine waited a few seconds before answering, enjoying the eager look on Anakin's face. "Oh, I am… rather certain… that Plagueis did indeed exist, and if someone did truly inherit his powers – well he would undoubtedly be one of the most powerful individuals in the galaxy. Not to mention virtually _immortal_…"

**_"Immortal…" _**the word hung in the air between them.

"How would I _find_ him?" said Anakin breathlessly, dilated blue eyes looking searchingly into Palpatine's own.

"I really couldn't say," said Palpatine lightly, letting his eyelids drop and turning away slightly. The hum of the orchestra caught his ear. _And now you have the entirety of the second act to ponder what I've said. Enjoy._

The buzz of the audience died away, and the lights dimmed once more, leaving them in darkness. Anakin's sweaty hand reached across to grip the hand of the Chancellor, whose eyes were fixed on the stage.

* * *

"What do you mean you _booked_?" said Anakin, slightly annoyed at being anticipated. 

He sat opposite the Chancellor at a white covered table, in one of the most exclusive restaurants on the upper levels of Coruscant. The view was panoramic, all the walls in the circular room being made of transparasteel, patrons and staff entering the dining area by means of a transparent lift in the centre of the room. On top of each table was a small, spindly metal tree, covered with beads of light instead of leaves, their multiple glow reflected in the angular crystal glasses and polished cutlery.

Anakin and Palpatine were the only customers, the Red Guard standing at intervals around the curving edge of the room.

Palpatine waved a pale hand expressively, "Well… I was certain that with the proper approach, you could be persuaded to join me."

Anakin tried some of whatever was on his plate. He wasn't quite sure what it was (other than purple) but it was probably rare and extremely expensive. "You're awfully confident…" he said mock-seriously through the purple mouthful.

Palpatine leaned back in his chair, and Anakin could see himself reflected in those pale eyes. "Oh… don't you think it's justified, Anakin?"

Anakin looked down at his plate sheepishly. Palpatine laughed and took a sip of his wine.

"Well, yeah…" Anakin agreed eventually, face pink. "You've got this weird power over me… I could never refuse _you_."

"You award me such influence!"

"Anyway," said Anakin, rubbing the back of his neck, "You do this _thing_ with your hands…"

The Chancellor raised his eyebrows and put the hands in question together on the table.

"It's so unbelievably _feminine_…" Anakin enthused, while Palpatine simply stared at him. "I've never seen anyone else do it, you sort of hold them up around your chest and make these delicate little gestures."

"I hadn't realised," said the Chancellor, unconsciously doing exactly as Anakin described.

* * *

They were taken back to the 500 Republica in Palpatine's personal shuttle. They sat close together on the smooth leather seats, the older man leaning slightly against Anakin, Palpatine's dark robes overflowing slightly onto Anakin's lap. For Anakin, this was everything he wanted. He wanted this forever. 

_But you shouldn't even be doing it now, _said a voice in his head, reminiscent of Obi-Wan. _You're a Jedi Knight and you can't love anyone –especially not the leader of the Republic you're supposed to be serving!_

_Watch me._

The shuttle touched down gently and the two of them got out, Anakin helping Palpatine down. As soon as they were inside, the guards sent away, they began to kiss, in an exquisitely slow parting of lips. They could taste the expensive wine still on each other's tongues.

They began to undress, but when Palpatine reached to remove his cloak, Anakin shook his head and simply undid the soft trousers the Chancellor wore under his robes. "Leave it all on," he whispered breathlessly, flinging his own clothes across the room.

Falling onto the bed, the rich layers of silk rubbed against Anakin's naked skin. Eager, Anakin forced himself into Palpatine's pallid opening almost immediately, making the Chancellor cry out in shock, Anakin sliding his firm hands up the inside of those robes.

This was what was real. This is what meant something. Everything else was worthless.

* * *

Colours flamed and danced across Palpatine's vision as he was pushed into the matrass. He raked his nails along the sheets, veins throbbing and knuckles white. It was a struggle even to maintain his mental shields as he was hit by the onslaught of passion. 

Tears began to trail down his face, in an effort to keep his control. But Anakin drove in again, harder, and his reserve broke.

* * *

A wave of incredible power crashed over Anakin. It swirled around him, flooding the deliriousJedi with a thunderstorm of feeling. It touched his own power, making him grip Palpatine tighter, heady with energy. They moved together, slick with semen and blood, the dark, addictive power undulating between and around them like curling black smoke. 

But when the moment finally ceased, it was gone, leaving Anakin to wonder what exactly it was he'd felt.

* * *

**Right, that's it for now, darlings – Reviews are gobbled up like cookies!**


	10. Not A Jedi

Chapter Ten – _Not a Jedi_

**Author's Note: **Still coughing all over the computer, but my mind seems to be working (from a certain point of view.) The poem… umm… I sort of wrote it as an accompaniment and then wanted to paste it in. So I did.

Lady Vader 2884- More cookies… I still can't believe I've written this chapter… poor little Ani…

Agny- Yes… I know all the Phantom songs by heart too – didn't really like the movie that much though. I've always loved the idea of Palpy singing

_Let the dream begin,_

_let__ your darker side give in_

_to__ the power of the music that I write…_

to Anakin. I can SEE it.

Lady Sidious- This is where it leads to_… sniff…_

LV- Stands for Lord Voldemort or something else? Not so funny this chapter…

Ziggy – Yoda? Ewww… That's grottier than Mr. P! (Whom I love) Anyway, hope this one's to your taste, it's a bit different…

Spelljammer - They_ have_ an emperor plush doll? I want one too!

LL - Too much creativity? No such thing – wait till it pours out your nostrils! It does - you is GOOD!

Maelicia – Yes, my Chancellor Palpatine stares at me, but I just can't look at him while I'm writing… It's too painful for both of us.

Lanfear1- Everyone's giving me cookies… YAY! Because I'm sick and I'm not meant to have any! Goodie! This is the update!

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

* * *

_There's a picture in your room,_

_Right above the oceanic bed,_

_As above, so below,_

_Both pulling weeping red._

It was that indecipherable quality of morning when the sky was just starting to lighten but to the roused sleeper night still remained. Palpatine and Anakin lay naked together in the middle of that great bed, the one in the arms of the other.

The room was a warm, dark red cocoon, the temperature perfectly regulated to the body heat of the two figures snuggled together under the shimmersilk sheets. Anakin pulled the softly yielding form lying next to him closer, so they could feel the breath in each other's bodies. Palpatine's head nestled in the curve of Anakin's neck, his fine white hair sticking slightly to Anakin's skin.

"You awake…?" Anakin whispered; voice hoarse from slumber. Palpatine shifted back a little, resting his head on his own pillow. He opened one heavy-lidded eye and then the other one; and the colour seemed dark grey in the dim light.

"What is it, Anakin?" he murmured sleepily, pulling the coverlet further up around his pale shoulders.

"Can I ask you a strange question?" asked Anakin, as they both moved deeper under the dark wine coloured covers.

"Of course," said Palpatine.

"Well did you sense anything… unnatural… when we had sex last night?" Anakin asked seriously.

Palpatine let out a throaty chuckle, "Anakin, what a thing to say!" He turned onto his back to stare up at that great, bleeding artwork above. "But really, if you're talking about the Force, then there's no point in asking me anyway. You_ know_ I don't have any Force-sensitivity."

_Gazing up at that monstrous vanity,_

_You've given yourself pride of place,_

_Delicately knotting my strings,_

_Indulging a macabre taste._

"I know…" said Anakin, also turning onto his back, "it's just I felt something last night… something that wasn't us. Something powerful."

Palpatine blinked, "How odd, what do you think you felt?"

"It felt… _dark_. But it didn't feel threatening, just… _evil_… and it tried to make _me_ evil." Anakin pushed his fingers through his splayed out dark blond hair.

"Well, apart from a very queer sort of guilt trip, I can't imagine what _that _could have been."

* * *

Palpatine sat wearing only a set of black, silk underobes on the small cushioned stool in the bathroom, the bright light from the lampdisks on the walls showing up the streaks of jasper and maroon in the red marble. He reached up to run a fine-toothed comb through his hair. A big hand caught his fingers and gently removed the comb. 

"Allow me," said a deep voice beside his ear. The Chancellor smiled into the mirror while Anakin carefully stroked through Palpatine's white hair. Then Anakin sat down on the side of the bath and watched while Palpatine dressed for a day in the Senate.

It took a lot more that he'd originally thought. Palpatine had two droids to help him put on his elaborate clothes, and the way he simply stood there with that satisfied _look _while the droids did the work actually made Anakin feel slightly uncomfortable

_If only I could control the paint,_

_I'd keep the perfect china you,_

_A soft, exquisite doll to dress up,_

_With eyes of a wide glass blue._

When Anakin arrived at the Jedi Temple that morning, Obi-Wan was on him straight away. "What were you _thinking_?" the Jedi Master hissed.

"What are you talking about?" Anakin asked sullenly.

"What am I…? _Anakin!_ _The ballet!" _Obi-Wan looked ready to start pulling out hair.

"How do you know about that?" Anakin replied indignantly.

"Anakin, there are journalists who make their living interpreting why who's with who at those places!"

"I don't understand… the Chancellor invited me and…"

"-And where were you all night?" asked Obi-Wan pointedly.

"I… that's my business," Anakin boiled, "why are you suddenly so interested in where I spend my nights?"

"Because I want _you_ to tell me you weren't spending them in the Supreme Chancellor's _bed!_" There was silence in the Temple hall. Everyone was staring at Anakin.

Who felt his cheeks go hot and his breathing begin to go fast. Everyone was waiting for him to deny it. But his tongue was heavy and his brain wouldn't work. "I…" he tried, "I… er…" He looked around, shaking.

"Anakin," said Obi-Wan quietly, putting his hand on his apprentice's shoulder, "you could be cast out for this."

_There would be no bloodshed,_

_And tormented souls could fly,_

_Gashed lips can make a smile,_

_And no one else would die._

Anakin stood in the middle of the Jedi Council chamber. _"You can't do this!"_ he cried desperately, "you _can't!_"

"Anakin, do you love Chancellor Palpatine?" asked Master Windu gravely, his black eyes boring into Anakin's soul.

Anakin looked down at the mural one the floor, "…yes…" he whimpered.

"Then decide, you must," said Yoda, a small flickering hologram, "between the Jedi and the Chancellor. Otherwise no peace, will you have." his long ears dipped slightly and there was a sad smile on the old Master's wrinkled face.

Anakin stared out through theshadowy greysky and bit his lip, trying to hold in the tears. _Why? Why did everything always happen to him? How could Obi-Wan tell them? _He stood up straight, not looking at his Master. Distantly, he could hear the rain, lashing against the transparasteel.

_In the end, there was only one answer he could give. _

"I… I choose love," Anakin said, voice shaky but firm.

There was a shocked silence. _I don't believe it, _Anakin thought dreamily, _none of them thought I'd choose Palpatine over them..._

"Then give me your lightsaber," said Mace Windu solemnly.

_Life really is a painting,_

_And you began this one a long time past,_

_I guess I should appreciate the style,_

_It has an interesting contrast._

Anakin sat in the Chancellor's private holding-office at the base of the Senate. He felt numbed and shaken. _What had he done? WHAT HAD HE DONE! He was nobody now; he was no longer a Jedi Knight, he **missed**his lightsaber! He could feel its absence: like a friend had deserted him… like friends had…_

Suddenly there was a flood of sound as the Chancellor's Podium descended into the office. There was talk everywhere – discussion of some amendment – but Anakin didn't listen, he simply sat and waited. Eventually, a soft hand rested on his shoulder.

"Come," ordered that warm, comforting voice.

_I loved your composition,_

_The pale hands of Fate,_

_That dark waterfall of colour,_

_Blind enough to take the bait._

"Anakin, what's happened?" Palpatine asked; when they were alone together in his main office.

"The Council…" Anakin found he was crying again, as he pressed himself up against the Chancellor. "They made me choose…" he wrapped his arms around Palpatine tightly.

"Choose?" said Palpatine carefully.

"They made me choose between the Force and you… and I…" Anakin gasped, the tears rolling down, as he ran his clammy, shaking fingers through that fine hair.

_"Yes?"_ said Palpatine sharply, almost eagerly.

Anakin raised his head slowly, to look at Palpatine, "and I chose _you_," he said, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was saying.

"They've officially cast you out?" asked Palpatine in a hard voice Anakin didn't recognise.

"No… I left." said Anakin simply, wondering why Palpatine was behaving like this.

Palpatine smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile, it was a slow reptilian grin and his eyes seemed like shards of ice. "Good," he said, "_good_, Anakin. You don't need them anymore."

He stepped away from the stunned Anakin and seemed to sweep away, and to Anakin, he suddenly appeared a great distance away, a dark shape on a maroon sea.

"Anakin," he heard the distant voice say, "I've been waiting to tell you this for a long time…" he sighed slightly and drifted closer. "The Jedi… they're planning treason."

"Treason?" Anakin echoed, "That can't be true…"

"I'm afraid it is, Anakin… you see… they suspect me for what I am." Palpatine smirked, the corners of his mouth tightening.

"What do you mean?" Anakin found himself saying for the second time today.

"Anakin," the Chancellor smiled, blue eyes shining like the glitter on the ocean of Kamino, "I am the Sith Lord."

At first, the words didn't quite register, just stayed there on those thin, pink lips. _I am the Sith Lord. _

_"You…!"_Anakin almost shrieked, "How can it _possibly_ be you? _You_… you _couldn't lie to me…!"_ His knees gave way and he sank to the floor, sobbing hysterically, the room blurring and distorting, until all that was left was a whirl of colour.

"It was necessary, Anakin, believe me. You would never have come to me." Those soft hands reached down to cup Anakin face. "Oh Anakin, I'm all you've got now. You can't go back."

"I'll go to the Temple!" shouted Anakin, "I'll tell them all about you!"

"Ah, but dear child, what good would that do?" said the voice, drawing closer. "It's _you _I'm talking about. After I'm dead – do you suppose they'll _want_ a Jedi Knight who has killed a woman in _cold blood_?" the voice was as smooth as poison, soft and quiet as a kiss.

_"I didn't…"_

"_You know you did_. I'm sure you remember, you came and asked me for help and I helped you. Now _you_ must help _me_."

_You'll take me out tonight,_

_But you've put my heart in a cage,_

_And dried my blood on the canvas,_

_So all that's left is rage._

That familiar warm, soft body was in his arms. And Anakin hugged it, and cried and cried, for he didn't know what else to do. _"Anakin…"_ that sepulchral voice said, "I have a gift for you."

The room seemed to split asunder, leaving a vast, black ocean in its wake. Anakin felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and below him were endless ebony waves. All he need do was jump, fall into that cool water and he'd never have to think about anything again.

_And suddenly, that was exactly what he wanted._

Anakin let himself fall and the power swallowed him up. He floated peacefully in that deep ocean, secure in the knowledge that nothing could hurt him ever again.

_It's all about the spectrum,_

_Anger fades from red to black,_

_And what you've seen and what you've done,_

_You can never take it back._

* * *

**Wow… I did it. Oh my god… I just DID IT! Tell me what you think darlings!**


	11. Darkness

Chapter Eleven – _Darkness_

**Author's Note: **I'm feeling better now – the problem with that being that now I have to work really hard to catch up on all the work I've missed rather than write fan-fiction… so this has taken a while…

Lady Sidious – Thank you, I really wasn't sure if the poem would work. But if it made you cry…

Arielofwater – Why not? I want Palpy and _I'm _younger than Anakin!

Anglachel – Mwahaha! (Tries to push you off the edge of your seat)

Lady Vader 2884 – Cake? Mmmm…

Spelljammer – The poem is Mine! Mine! All MINE! Not Anakin's… but it is written form his POV.

Maelicia – They're not sleeping together yet… poor Ani's in shock about Palpy coming out of the closet with his Sith Lord persona.

LL – It's ALL part of the great (possibly good) plot! Obi is in on it!

Blodeuedd – An octopus through a grinder? Well, I'm flattered, I think. I've said before that I view this fan-fiction as a sort of elaborate farce. I'm tricking you guys into taking it seriously.

Ziggy – Right, not content with Anakin's emotional trauma, I feel the need to start on Palpatine's. It's gonna get messy. Definitely a tragedy… from a certain point of view.

Agny – I'm answering all I can! In terms of the last chapter I wanted to emphasize how fast and uncontrollable everything feels for Anakin. He doesn't have time for angst –he's too stunned – it comes after, I think.

Kittenmommy – I'm SO flattered by your praise! You're, like, THE Kittenmommy and you're asking about MY health and praising MY story. (faints.)

Screaming Ferret – I have spent YEARS loving Palpatine. YEARS before I even considered writing. Now, I feel I know him well enough to get his dialog pretty well. All bow to the inner fan girl!

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

* * *

Anakin woke up in Palpatine's bedroom, staring up at the red vision that eventually congealed into that black figure. Fate – the master of all.

Everything fitted neatly into place, like a Jedi logic puzzle. Bile rose in Anakin's mouth, it was a Sith logic puzzle. Thousands of lives, an intergalactic war, all for… Palpatine? Was Naboo even innocent? Had everything been manipulated?

_But you said… _came a voice in Anakin's aching head, _you thought nothing else mattered except Palpatine… Now you find out he thinks the same thing. Can you blame him?_

"Anakin…" that silken voice purred, "Anakin, the Sith believe that the universe begins with the self, so that if you control yourself you can control the universe." A soft hand reached over to touch Anakin's rough cheek. Palpatine chuckled, "You cannot control your emotions. You can use your feelings – but you cannot discipline them. That is your weakness."

Anakin sat up to stare at the relaxed figure sitting on the edge of the bed. Palpatine's robe was a dark red and it seemed to bleach his pasty face of colour, except for his tight, pink mouth.

"And you?" Anakin asked angrily. "I'm starting to wonder whether you have any emotion at all!" Anakin could still feel the ocean of the Chancellor's power, but it had frozen over.

Those droopy blue eyes stared at the frustrated Anakin, like those of a wise lizard. "Oh _yes_, I have emotions. Of course I do. I just don't keep them on show, unless it suits me," he licked his lips. "Anakin, you will never have true power until you can keep your emotions locked inside their furnace and _wait_. You have great strength – but it is the fiery passion of a rogue Jedi – not the cold efficiency of a Sith."

"You're not my Master!" Anakin snapped, flinging the covers aside and striding across the room. It was night and air-traffic seemed to swim across the black Coruscant sky like fluorescent fish.

"You think not?" said Palpatine with that same infuriating calm. The Chancellor slowly stood up and walked over to Anakin, stopping right in front of him. "I have been your Master for longer than you can remember… from the beginning _I_ controlled your destiny. It is my _will_ that governs you, even if you do not intend that it is so." Those pale lips curled in contempt and Palpatine turned away.

"Everything that has transpired has done so according to _my _design. _Everything!_"

And suddenly Anakin saw Palpatine's weakness, the hairline crack in the perfect construct that had the potential to become such a gaping hole. Vanity – Palpatine was a creature of pride. _So are you, _said that inner voice, but the Chancellor was different. He remembered the expression on Palpatine's face when the droids dressed him – the man saw the _universe _like that.

"Even our love?" asked Anakin. "Was that planned too?"

Palpatine paused, his delicate hands up as if gently probing the air. "No…" he murmured thoughtfully, "that was unexpected…"

Anakin started forward, gripping Palpatine by the shoulders. _"Do you love me at all?" _he almost yelled, voice gathering volume like a snowball. "You're like some _machine_, all wiring and wheels… are you even _human!"_

The Chancellor closed his eyes and a tiny shiver ran through him, barely perceptible under his heavy robes. _"…Yes…"_ he said almost inaudibly.

"Then how _do_ you do this!"

Palpatine looked up at Anakin, but his pale blue eyes seemed distant, almost as if he was reciting some lesson learnt long ago.

"The Sith - unlike the Jedi who generate light - do not create darkness. We _use_ the darkness that has been there since before the universe spun into existence. That is why two Sith are far more potent than a thousand Jedi, because darkness is so much more vast than the largest sun. All stars die… but the darkness will _always_ exist."

"I'm talking about _you!_" Anakin said angrily, "How do _you _justify it!"

Palpatine laughed. It was a high ringing laugh that, to Anakin, sounded slightly unhinged. "Oh, Anakin!" he continued to laugh, leaning forward so that his breath stroked Anakin's neck, "you can be so _stupid_ sometimes it really is amazing… _The question_," he said almost grandly, "is how _you_ justify it. How do you justify the loss of _one_ life in your cause? Tell me that, and I will tell you how I justify the death of thousands."

_Padmé, _Anakin thought_, how do I justify Padmé? _"She… she betrayed me," he said feebly.

"Did she care about you?" asked Palpatine pointedly.

"No… she betrayed my trust."

"_Exactly_, Anakin exactly, and it is always in the fundamental nature of beings to do such things. That is why I do not care for the millions – they do not care for me either. Each, in his or her secret heart, is just as selfish as the next. I look out there," he waved a pale hand, "and I see a black mist of life – thin in some places, but oh, so much _deeper_ in others. It is the simple truth that beings are evil. It is the light that is unnatural."

Now Anakin shivered, _how could Palpatine actually believe that… it was monstrous. _

"There's good in everyone," Anakin said simply. "You just have to look."

"But that's the point, Anakin," said Palpatine, shaking his white head, "you don't have to _look_ for evil. You don't see the darkness between the glows of the lamps because it's always there."

"I… how did you become like this!"

Palpatine eased himself into Anakin's embrace. "By the same long road as you, Anakin," he explained patiently, "pain, suffering… death. My mother… she…" But his voice stopped and his lips pressed together, reinforcing the lines around his mouth.

"Your mother…?" Anakin echoed, curious.

"It is no longer of any consequence," said Palpatine firmly. "She died, as did my father. I was apprenticed to Darth Plagueis at a very early age and so began my journey to my eventual destiny. It matters no longer."

"But it does!" said Anakin passionately. "It matters that you knew love! Have you _ever_ truly known what it is to love?"

"If, by love, you mean the sentimental drivel one finds in stories, then no," Palpatine snorted. "Real love is seldom without self-interest, like anything else. I assure you I have experienced much in my lifetime."

"But don't you see that's not love?" Anakin continued. "I love you! I would die for you… It's pure, without anything else! Just love."

The Chancellor pushed Anakin away. "Just love? Child, there is no such thing." He stepped back, eyes once again fixed on some horizon Anakin couldn't see, "There is no such thing…" he repeated, his heavy, dark, red robes whispering softly as he quit the room.

* * *

"Are you sure we did the right thing?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing his chin. "It's risky."

"You must have faith in the Council's decision, Obi-Wan," said Mace Windu calmly. "Anakin's own conflict is resolved. But he can still help us."

"Palpatine no longer trusts the Jedi – how do you know he won't block this scheme?"

"The Supreme Chancellor loves power. He is in love with his power over the Chosen one. So he will see no danger from that direction. Anakin _will_ help us."

* * *

**Will he, won't he? Who can say? Leave a review and I might tell you!**


	12. Such A Susceptible Chancellor

Chapter Twelve – _Such a Susceptible Chancellor _

**Author's Note: **Oh, my… forgive me O Lord…

Carl – Even I don't know whether Anakin will succeed or not – however, Palpy will win! (I love him too much to let him lose)

Cmdr. Gabe E- I'm much better thanks. But YES! Anakin is really in love with that cold-hearted sod. AND THUS I CREATE PLOT!

Agny- Does he or doesn't he? Well… loving is difficult for our darling Sith Master. He's just too bloody selfish.

Lady Sidious- Good… _good!_ Everything is going as planned. I try very hard with the dialog of this chap – I just don't get Obi-Wan that well… I wonder why…?

LV- Ah ha! There's a reason that sneaky little sod said that about his mother and he will explain in this chapter.

Spelljammer – You read my mind, clever one. Abuse! Yes! …And hugs!

LL – We do think alike – but I never want Anakin (or the readers) to be sure if Palpatine's feelings are genuine or not. He's eroded all his credibility, poor dear…

Maelicia – He he! All us young things rapid for stuffy, old emperors! The story of _Mr. Palpy and the Stupid Boy in Love_ continues…

Princess Desire- They _are_ cute…! And disgusting! I'm trying really hard to keep updating! (Puffs theatrically)

Vampire Kid Kara – Yes, odd pairings are my forte too… I'm not an Anakin fan – but this idea was just too delicious to resist.

Blodeuedd – Have I spelt your name right? Anyway – _I_ think it's weird! And if _I _think it's weird…

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

* * *

_"Our celebrated Supreme Chancellor appears not quite as celibate as we first thought. In a time when politicians are expected to keep highly attractive aides, it has always been Palpatine's policy to remain free of such scandal. But, as we now know, that appears to be because our beloved Chancelloris being serviced by a Jedi young enough to be his grandson!_

_Anakin Skywalker (25), a decorated war veteran, the hero of many a youngling, has served the Republic for almost all his young life. Little did we know, until now, how far his **service** extended. _

_Both the Jedi and the Office of the Supreme Chancellor refuse to comment, but we can reveal that Skywalker has recently been expelled from the Jedi Order for reasons the Jedi prefer to keep secret. It is common knowledge that Jedi Knights must remain free of earthly distractions, but you'd think they'd make an exception in such a noble cause! _

_Meanwhile, the young ex-Jedi Knight has been seen with the Chancellor, dining and attending the Galaxies Opera together…."_

Anakin almost threw the holo-projector across the room. _It wasn't like that!_ _Those bloody…_ Anakin sighed and turned away. He'd beenmoping aroundin Palpatine's private apartments for a week. Palpatine had bought Anakin some practical clothes in a fine black material, similar to the tunic and pants of his old Jedi robes. Anakin didn't see the point in changing his boots. The Chancellor insisted that at some point Anakin would have to visit the tailor, but the ex-Jedi was resisting the pressure.

The truth was he just didn't know what to do. He had been regulated by others all his life, first by Watto and then by the Jedi. Now that he was free he just felt… purposeless.

The Chancellor, for his part, appeared to be waiting for something. Every time he saw Anakin sitting moodily on one of his elegant, black couches he would just smile slightly and turn away, getting on with his own copious workload. He clearly wanted Anakin to make the first move.

_Well, _Anakin thought to himself as he once again plonked himself down on the couch, _I'd oblige him if I knew what to do, but I don't._

He knew Palpatine was evil… more that evil, if that was possible. That the whole of the Clone Wars had simply been an excuse to usurp power – but that didn't seem to change Anakin's feelings. He _wanted_ it to change his feelings, but it didn't work like that.

_How couldour love be a fake?_ Anakin _knew_ Palpatine felt something for him, he _must_. _No one is beyond redemption_, Anakin thought. He conjured up an image of the Supreme Chancellor. Those pale blue eyes that were still rimmed with ginger, that small pink mouth, white skin and the exquisitely feminine hands…

Anakin shivered. Sometimes he thought he could all but disappear inside this apartment. It was like another world, a red womb where reality was somehow absent. _Surely no one could be that cold? That devoid of love… _

Anakin sat there for a while, glaring at one of Palpatine's sculptures. There was a short beep from the doorway and a section of deep red wall panel slid away, revealing a screen. An image appeared of Obi-Wan Kenobi standing in the corridor outside, arms crossed.

Debating whether or not to answer the door, Anakin got up and walked over to the door which led into the entrance way where Anakin knew there were two silent Chancellor's Guards, standing on either side of the door.

Obi-Wan must know that Palpatine was in the Senate, sowas here for Anakin – making an educated guess as to where his past apprentice would be.

Anakinpressed the one of the buttons next to the door, opening a voice channel into the entrance way. "You can let him in," said Anakin, voice slightly petulant.

When the Jedi Master walked in, Anakin was standing in front of the door, as if to block Obi-Wan from entering the apartment, body radiating aggression.

"Is the Chancellor in?" asked Obi-Wan in an airy tone, as if he didn't know perfectly well that Palpatine was currently chairing the Senate.

"What do you want?" said Anakin pointedly, dark eyes intense, locking with his old Master's.

"I want to talk," answered Obi-Wan, like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. "But not here."

"What makes you think I have anything to say to you?" asked Anakin slowly.

"Your natural curiosity," said the Jedi, almost smirking through his well-meaning features.

"So where do you want to hold this _discussion_?" Anakin said, putting an emphasis on the word "discussion," that made it clear he doubted that there would actually be one.

"How about some food?" asked Obi-Wan.

* * *

Sitting opposite each other in Dex's Diner, Anakin reflected on how very different this was to what had now become his usual fare. Palpatine would have probably closed his eyes in horror at the fried nerf burger Anakin had ordered to avoid talking to Obi-Wan for as long as possible. Unfortunately, Anakin had forgotten quite how much sauce they put in these burgers. He was becoming frustrated as the drippy sauce ran down his wrists and splattered onto his clothes, preventing him from maintaining his suave image.

"Anakin," said Obi-Wan seriously, his previous levity forgotten, "there's something you need to understand. There was another reason you were expelled from the Jedi Order."

Anakin remained silent, staring.

"We want to draw the Sith Master out of hiding. There has been no progress with tracing him since the battle of Coruscant. Your relationship with Palpatine actually works to our advantage. You see, we want you to find the Sith Lord without the suspicion of reporting to the Jedi."

"You're saying my continued public humiliation was all for show?" said Anakin incredulously.

"Anakin, listen to me. You must let go of your pride and think about everything at risk here."

"No, _you_ listen! Although it might have been just pretendingto you – my decision was real." _How could Obi-Wan be saying this? That all histortured choiceswere just a Jedi ploy? _"I chose Palpatine over the Jedi. _My_ decision was for real!"

Obi-Wan looked out the window at the air-traffic. "I'm so sorry, Anakin," he said regretfully. "I couldn't tell you. You're no good at hiding your feelings. You would have alerted the Sith Lord to the deception. I'm sorry."

_"What deception?"_ said Anakin roughly, standing up, silencingall chatter in the diner.

Obi-Wanstarted to reply when a pretty Iridonian female approached their table. "Are you Anakin Skywalker?" she said all in a rush, giggling slightly.

"Yes?" said Anakin, wondering why the hell she was bothering him.

"Oh!" she said, awed. "Are you _really_ banging the Chancellor?"

* * *

There were four guards in the entrance way when Anakin stormed back into Palpatine's apartments, although he didn't need their presence to tell him that the owner was in residence – now the Chancellor allowed Anakin to feel his Force signature, he could feel that deep ocean of power from miles away.

Palpatine had clearly just returned, as he was still dictating to Sly Moore and several other aides. The Chancellor moved from one to the other, dictating a few sentences to one before moving on to the next, in a stream of words that moved seamlessly from subject to subject without breaking his train of thought, remembering exactly where he left off with the last aide.

Anakin stopped in mid-stomp, watching with fascination until Palpatine finally sent them all away. The Chancellor wore robes of aubergine and deep sienna with fitted sleeves that tightened around his wrists. The puffed shoulders of the robe Anakin supposed were intended to make Palpatine appear taller, but to Anakin they only emphasised his lover's lack of height.

_He's so very sensitive about it, _Anakin thought. _I wonder how many people realise he wears built up shoes… I can't believe he hasn't realised how incredibly attractive his size is to me._

Palpatine drew closer to Anakin, taking small, quick steps. He opened his mouth to speak when Anakin asked, "What size feet have you got?" It wasn't entirely spontaneous; Anakin had discovered that the best way to disorient Palpatine was by being illogical.

The Chancellor gave Anakin a _look_, but Anakin's face appeared entirely without guile.

"They are a size seven," said Palpatine slowly, carefully assessing Anakin.

"… And how tall are you exactly?" continued Anakin sweetly, in a mood to score points.

Palpatine leaned forward so that they were almost touching. "Anakin," he said quietly, "Stop this." The dangerous edge to his soft tone reminded Anakin just how dangerous Palpatine-baiting was.

"I was told you received a visitor," said Palpatine lightly, stepping away from Anakin and seating himself one the couch.

"Yes, Obi-Wan came." Anakin said simply, hoping to avoid the Chancellor probing to deeply.

"What could _he_ possibly have to say to you?" asked Palpatine with a thin smile that didn't reach his cold eyes.

"Tried to make me forgive him," answered Anakin, attempting to stay as close to the truth as possible, knowing that Palpatine would easily detect an outright lie. He was slightly surprised that he didn't want the older man to know about Obi-Wan's plan. _Did he **want **to betray Palpatine?_

"And did you?" The Chancellor adjusted the fall of his robes.

"No," said Anakin truthfully, sitting down next to the preening Palpatine.

"How reassuring," said Palpatine sarcastically, although, as with most of the Chancellor's comments, Anakin wasn't quite sure of the sarcasm.

Palpatine's small hands rested on his lap, and Anakin studied the veins that stood out like pale blue rivers on a plain of ice. _He's a Sith Lord,_ Anakin said to himself, but looking at the Chancellor, even now it seemed far-fetched.

_He's just so finicky_, thought Anakin. He couldn't imagine those delicate hands doing anything as half as brutal as wielding a weapon – let alone a lightsaber! And Palpatine was so very particular about things, his clothes, for instance. He just wasn't… _warlike._

Anakin was brought back to realitya pealof laughter.

"My Master thought the same thing," Palpatine chuckled. "I was always a disappointment to him in that area. I have always despised the exertion of combat... I still do." He lifted his hands into the air and looked at them fondly, as if regarding old friends. "The appearance of weakness is useful, Anakin."

"I think your hands are beautiful," said Anakin, before he could stop himself. He gently took hold of them in his own large ones.

"Sith are as varied as the cosmos," the Chancellor explained as Anakin pulled him closer, "but they are all Sith."

* * *

_The appearance of weakness is useful, _Palpatine smiled inwardly. _I wonder how far I should go in appearing emotionally vulnerable... Really! All that tripe about my mother – but Anakin thinks he can redeem me with love. How very predictable._ _But it suits my purposes perfectly._

Their kiss was slow, when it came. Anakin simply wanted to hold him after their separation over the past week – _although, try to convince a member of the press of that! _Palpatine was content to be held, and although he was loath to admit it, he enjoyed the sensation of being in Anakin's strong arms.

"I love you," said Anakin, as if he had only just realised this himself, his warm, natural hand running up through Palpatine's hair in that familiar way the Chancellor was beginning to like.

"Oh, _Anakin_…" he breathed softly as they continued to kiss.

* * *

**Next stop, sadistic sex! Er… Trash the moment, why don't I? Leave a review – please? (Get Palpy doingsweet heavy-lidded eyelash fluttering) **


	13. What a Sith Wants

Chapter Thirteen – _What a Sith Wants _

**Author's Note: _OVER 100 REVIEWS! WHOOO! I LOVE YOU GUYS! _**(But not as much as I love Palpy) Right, to address an issue that's been bugging me. If you see wordslikethis that isn't me – it's Argh! I'm sorry about the lack of updating, but between a boyfriend and an immense workload I actually haven't had time! Every time I tried writing the sex scene my boyfriend came over… erm… does sound as dodgy as I think? Oh well. I'll leave it in so you guys can laugh at me. With regard to the intercourse – it is not porn! It is very restrained in description because… well… I'm too much of a chicken and don't want this story to be removed.

Princess Desire – How can he keep himself occupied? I really couldn't say…

Darkside Doris – "What a sith wants; what a sith needs…" Ahem… ah… yes, well, Palpy is still mean and evil. Even_ if_ he likes his hugs! With relevance to the "speeder touch down," quote - I say that your filthy mind is casting impure thoughts on my thoroughly CLEAN and INNOCENT little totally innocuous fiction. (Damn, I can't keep a straight face!)

Lady Vader 2884- I am from New Zealand – but the coffee is much appreciated. Mmm… I have a little drabble about Palpatine and some coffee on a friend's computer… wish I could post it… Padmé explodes because the coffee is SO strong.

Kittenmommy – Well, with regards to the sex… it is necessary to the plot. Really… it is. _Really!_

Agny- I know _exactly_ what you mean by parents wondering what you're giggling about! That always happens to me!

Lady Sidious- Manipulative like Lord Sidious? Me? (Shivers in delight) Ooo! What I've always wanted!

Ziggy – I AWAYS keep my promises… just like Palpy loves his Republic… Moulin Rouge…? Er… the situation is that serious?

Spelljammer – When was the last time? Erm… ask him yourself. I don't dare…

LL – You were DREAMING ABOUT IT? What sort of sick, depraved… (Recalls her many dreams concerning her story) OK… I'm shutting up…. really – with the robes? Plot bunny: I might use it, but well into the First Imperium probably.

Maelicia – Yes, he is so small and cute! I'm… sure… Anakin would agree! Go the small and cute (and evil) one!

Blodeuedd- Yes… I dunno, I thought where would be a completely unexpected place for Obi-Wan to take Anakin – then my Mum started complaining about the drippy sauce in her takeaway burger and the rest, as they say, is history.

Evil+HarryGoddess – Yes, well what can I say? Curiosity killed the cat.

Vampire Kid Kara – I rock? No I don't! I like classical music!

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

* * *

Anakin was luxuriating in his new speeder. A SoroSuub custom-build, it ran so smoothly Anakin thought he was dreaming and the engine practically _purred. _His old Jedi speeder hadn't actually been _his_ as it were. Well it was _Anakin's_ speeder and everybody else _knew_ it was, but he didn't actually _own_ it as such. The sensation of actual _ownership_ was incredibly satisfying - especially the ownership of this humming streak of silver. The fact that Palpatine had paid for it didn't bother him at all. It was made out in his name and Anakin knew that the Chancellor enjoyed giving him expensive gifts. Anakin had been over the moons when the black sheet had been ripped off the SoroSuub. The thing cost almost as much as the outfitting of a battle cruiser – but Palpatine merely waved his hand demurely and said that he "had outfitted _quite_ enough battle cruisers already."

The entrance to the tailor's was discreet, appearing like any of the many privately owned apartments on the upper levels of Coruscant. It was a blustery day and the wind whipped Anakin's clothes as he got out of his new speeder. He couldn't resist stroking the side of the silver painted SoroSuub before walking towards the classy gold-tinted doors.

Inside it was a polished reception room with a large, gleaming reception desk. A powdered pink Twi'lek sat behind it, filing her long, glittering fingernails.

"I have an appointment for Skywalker," said Anakin, at little officiously, looking down at the receptionist.

"Oh_… of course!"_ she gasped, almost knocking over her chair in the rush to stand up. She jabbed a button on her desk, and waved towards another set of glass doors. "Madame Grimulche will see you now."

Anakin approached the glass doors, wanting to bolt for his SoroSuub and drive off as fast as the superior acceleration could take him. But he kept walking towards the doors, angry at his fear.

"Come in!" a gurgling voice cried. Anakin stepped back in surprise as a female dug in a stylish, grey suit dress made her way towards him, curtsying deeply with four hands, leaving her middle set standing on the floor.

"Er… hi," said Anakin awkwardly slightly unnerved by Grimulche's high-society Coruscant accent and shiny eye makeup – so different from the Outer Rim drawl and thuggish attitude of most dugs.

Grimulche fixed her beady dug eyes on Anakin and looked him up and down, analysing him carefully. She circled him slowly. "You have excellent form," she said, "and grace." But then she emitted a little derogatory noise, more reminiscent of the other dugs Anakin had encountered. "But you are careless of it! No thought!" she shook her head, ushering him over to a holo-projector. "I imagine His Excellency wants similar designs to the Iridonian gentleman, yes?"

"The Iridonian…?" Anakin started to say before the bomb dropped. "Oh! Er… I suppose…"

Grimulche nodded and flicked on the projector. "Take a look at these…"

* * *

Anakin felt very swish speeding back too the Chancellor's apartments. The wind rushed through his blond hair, his new clothes preventing the cold air from getting to his skin.

Grimulche had given him a whole wardrobe for various occasions, which one of her droids would be delivering. Right now, Anakin was wearing a soft, black, high-necked shirt, over which was wrapped a sleeveless jacket of shiny, black leather that folded across his chest, held in place with a thick belt. He wore a pair of black jodhpurs, complete with knee-length black boots. The whole effect was very pleasing in that it retained his old simplicity, while vastly distinguishing him from the members of the Jedi Order.

He parked his speeder on the Chancellor's inner landing bay, rather than the expansive platform outside. He swung his legs up and jumped out, his new boots hitting the floor with a satisfying _thud_. Anakin swaggered up the hallway, winking at a pretty, human girl with odd, mismatched eyes; he assumed she was an aide – making her cheeks flush pink.

When Anakin got into Palpatine's apartments, Sate Pestage met him, accompanied by a dark-haired man Anakin had come to recognise as the Supreme Chancellor's Director of Intelligence, Armand Isard. Pestage was scowling. "Where's Palpatine?" Anakin asked.

Sate Pestage's scowl deepened. "This way," he said graciously, his respectful voice sounding strange through his unpleasant expression. He led the other two across the room. Pestage reached out a long, bony finger and touched a seemingly innocuous part of the smooth, maroon wall. A keypad flipped out. "Speak," he told Anakin, voice clipped.

"What do you mean?" asked Anakin confused, running a hand through his messy hair.

A light flashed on the keypad and the wall parted, revealing what looked like a lift. Armand Isard made to go in, but Pestage flung out a hand. "Only the boy may enter," he said.

Anakin's temper simmered at being called "boy," – it made him remember the sting of Watto's rebukes - but he managed to hold his anger in check, knowing that a response would only appear juvenile. He stepped into the lift, feeling the eyes of the other two men on him. _How many secret doors are there around here? It's like a bloody wamp-rat warren! _The door snapped shut and Anakin was left in absolute darkness as the lift descended.

After what seemed like a long time, listening to the quiet hum of the lift, it halted. All the time Anakin felt himself drawing closer to that powerful presence that was very quickly becoming addictive. Anakin whipped round just as the double doors silently opened behind him. He stood, blinking, for a few seconds, his eyes adjusting to the comparatively bright light.

When his vision was clear, Anakin continued to blink, not sure what he was seeing was real. He entered a huge room with no furniture, just an immense stretch of almost mirror-like black floor and walls. Blue light shone down from a complicated, circular design enclosing a series of hexagonal type shapes. Embossed on the roof, it reminded Anakin of a web. The sides of the room appeared to rise as high as the Senate Chamber itself and were decorated with a wide variety of weapons, some of which not even Anakin recognised.

A lone figure in a black cowl sat in the middle of the floor. Anakin felt the stillness of the deep reservoir of power emanating from the small figure. As Anakin's footsteps sounded across the room, Palpatine rose, turning to face Anakin.

"Welcome," he said from under the shadow of his hood. Anakin would've continued towards him, but the Chancellor gestured for him to halt.

"Anakin," Palpatine said gravely, "it is time for you to begin your initiation. Your skills to date have only reached truly remarkable levels when you have been drawing on your anger - your defeat of Count Dooku, for example. You must look _inward_. Only _then_ will you understand how to properly draw on the power of the Dark Side."

Anakin stood very still. There were two of Palpatine. One was a dignified, regal gentleman, who loved the Galaxy and whom the Galaxy loved back. The other was this _creature_. Who fed on the pain and suffering of others, who glutted his soul on fear. _Which was real? Or perhaps neither were real and the true Palpatine was somewhere in between. Was there a true Palpatine? Or was he a construct of lies – deceiving everyone and everything – even himself._

"I _loath_ you," Palpatine said, in that guttural voice.

_"What…?" _said Anakin, catapulted out of his reverie.

"_Our love_, which you _so_ enjoy referring to, is a figment of your deluded imagination - I never loved you. I played along in order to cut you away from the disgusting Jedi."

Anakin's mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out, and angry tears welled in his deep blue eyes, _"That's not true!"_ he eventually managed. _"How could you betray me? ...You! The one person I thought was on my side! You…_ you _couldn't!"_

"Of course I could," said Palpatine simply, voice _reeking_ of satisfaction. "You are so _easy_ to predict, dear Anakin." He began to laugh, a ringing laugh that rose from the depths of Anakin's nightmares.

Shaking with rage, Anakin glanced sideways at the wall - he couldn't look at that robed abomination.

A sword glinted on the black wall, its silver-blue blade catching Anakin's eyes. _Yes, _said a voice inside his head, _do it…_

Anakin looked back at Palpatine and saw no trace of the man he loved. This wasn't Palpatine; it was the black figure of Fate, laughing at Anakin's weakness. _Well he would laugh no more!_

He vaulted sideways, feeling more powerful than he ever had before, snatched the sword off the wall and landed on the other side of Palpatine, the tip of the Sith sword almost touching the Chancellor's neck.

Palpatine didn't appear at all worried, he didn't even stop chuckling. "That's _excellent_, Anakin," he said, and with the slight movement a pale hand, the sword spun out of Anakin's grip, to be placed neatly back up on its hook.

Anakin stood there, rigid, teeth clenched, _seething_. The Sith Master gently brushed his hood back revealing the face of Anakin's lover. The neatly clipped, white hair and ice blue eyes of his beloved Chancellor. His current expression was that of an exasperated, but loving, parent.

"Oh, darling child…" he said comfortingly, moving forward to reach up and wipe away the tears trickling down Anakin's face with his soft hands. "I did not _mean_ what I said. I'm afraid it was necessary for you to grasp what I am trying to explain to you. You felt the power generated by your passion?"

Anakin nodded dumbly, this sudden switch in character was more than he could bear. "That surge is but a _taste _of what you could achieve. Anakin, be my pupil and I will show you the galaxy reborn."

But Anakin couldn't think about grand plans or even power. All he understood was that Palpatine _hadn't meant it. _He had said all that to Anakin only to illustrate some point.

_"Never do that again_," Anakin said hoarselyHe closed his eyes to block the tears. "I have shaped my _life_ around you. For you to turn around and say that stuff… with all I've _done_ for you…"

Palpatine sighed, quirking his thin lips regretfully. "I apologise, Anakin. Perhaps I have erred. You are not yet ready for the lessons I can teach you."

"I _am_ ready!" Anakin snapped. "I just need… reassurance… about your _personal_ feelings rather than the exultation of a Sith Master."

Palpatine's ice melted, his eyelids dropping. "Anakin, the strength of a Sith is in his passion; if I seem… _cold_ to you it is because I have learnt to conceal my emotions, in order that I may keep them secret. My name, Darth Sidious, relates to this. My… gift… if you will, is for manipulation and secrecy. I have been trained in this from a very early age. It is… _hard_ for me to forget my training, much more so than it is for you to forget yours." He licked his dry lips and pressed his small hands together tightly against his chest, a sign of distress, Anakin had learned.

"Just don't do that again!" said Anakin, before rushing to embrace Palpatine, who emitted a small gasp as he was lifted up and swung round in Anakin's arms, black robes flying. "I couldn't bear to lose you," Anakin confessed, holding Palpatine tightly.

"You are," the Chancellor replied, "very precious to me. I believe I would miss you very much."

"Let's go back upstairs," Anakin suggested, still resisting putting Palpatine down, but beginning to make his way towards the lift.

"Not yet, Anakin," said Palpatine quietly, as Anakin gently lowered him until his small feet touched the shiny, black floor with an audible click. "First you must learn to accept my nature so that an incident such as this does not occur again. Attack me."

Anakin stood for a moment staring at Palpatine's small frame. "I can't…" he said eventually, looking at the fans of wrinkles that spread from the corners of Palpatine's heavy eyes. _How could I contemplate life without him? _He suddenly remembered his dreams. _He is so very old… he can't die! I won't LET him die! How can I attack him!_

"Nonsense, Anakin," said the Chancellor. "Attack me. I assure you, I won't break. You did it before, now do it again," he sighed, "Pretend you're sparring. Jedi train against each other – so do the Sith."

Still not sure, but knowing he had to do something, Anakin asked, "With what?"

Palpatine pursed his lips, "I do wish those Jedi would _not_ place so much emphasis on _weapons_. Attack me with the Force, Anakin. Draw on your feelings."

The rich voice guided Anakin deep inside himself, as if to the burning core of an as yet dormant volcano. All he had to do was release it. He felt the Force around him as if he were swimming in water. Arching his shoulders back, Anakin thrust his hands forward, hurling an invisible ball of Force towards Palpatine – who stepped neatly aside, raising his silvery eyebrows in amusement.

They stood for a few seconds looking at each other and then Anakin tried again, realising that this was like gunning, he had to anticipate what his target would do. Anakin tried again, sending an even more powerful ball of anger towards his opponent.

An experienced teacher, Palpatine didn't move, so that Anakin's second missile simply shot past him, making his robes flutter slightly, a crash sounding from the afflicted wall.

Anakin gritted his teeth. _He was better than this!_ He tensed his muscles and leapt towards Palpatine, managing to hurl another ball of anger at the Sith Master, so Palpatine would be forced to do two things at once.

Before Anakin realised what was happening, Palpatine shot into the air, avoiding both the malignant energy and the now falling Anakin. To Anakin's surprise the Chancellor actually stayed hovering in the air – something Anakin had only ever seen done by Master Yoda.

Palpatine gracefully descended, looking across at Anakin with a self-satisfied expression that read: _is that the best you can do?_

Not waiting any longer, Anakin shot at the Chancellor before his feet had even touched the ground, managing to tackle him full on just before Palpatine flung out his hands and threw Anakin across the room.

Anakin hit the wall feet first, knocking several heavy, metal flails off their hooks. He stood up and picked two up, one in each hand. Palpatine, for his part, simply raised a hand. Anakin felt a movement behind him and – a mace swooped in to attack. Raising both flails in defence, Anakin tried to block the onslaught of blows delivered by the mace. Then the mace's attack stopped abruptly as a highly polished shoe connected with the back of Anakin's neck, sending him crashing to the floor. Anakin attempted to strike at what seemed like a blur of Dark Side energy, spinning around him and administering punishing blows with its hands and feet.

Anakin lost all restraint, sinking deep into the Dark Side of the Force, in an attempt to hit that twisting, black blur. The volcano seemed to erupt inside him and loosed power shot out, sending Palpatine shooting backwards, only just managing to stop himself hitting the wall.

In unison, they flew at each other and Anakin dropped his flails, the opponents grappling hand and foot in the air. Again, Palpatine flung Anakin across the room, this time clinging to Anakin to make sure he contacted with the wall. Weapons clattered to the ground, but Palpatine held Anakin suspended against the wall, making it impossible for the younger man to move.

Anakin found it impossible to launch an attack, he was gathering the Force to himself when that silken voice purred in his ear, "Utilize every weapon, Anakin," and a warm softness met his lips. Anakin shivered and sank into the kiss – when pain shot through his body as he landed in a crumpled heap on the mirror-like floor.

"Do not be distracted, Anakin. Use your opponent's weakness to your own advantage. Show no mercy – for I shall give you none."

_Use your opponent's weakness? _Anakin wondered, _what was Palpatine's weakness? _

_Overconfidence._

* * *

Palpatine easily blocked Anakin's clumsy attacks. The ex-Jedi was dripping blood and his assault was slowing. Palpatine was, of course, holding back all his more devastating attacks – this was a lesson, not a battle.

He fed off Anakin's rage, using it to strengthen his own attacks. He did not even need to engage his mind terribly, enjoying the process of stripping Anakin of brakes. He didn't even bother to probe Anakin's mind and thereby learn his next moves, focusing on keeping his own immense power in check so as not to permanently damage his new apprentice.

So when Anakin seemed to flag slightly in his attack, Palpatine did not hesitate to swing forward with his right foot and administer what would have been a crippling blow to the chin. Unfortunately, as the Chancellor's body was on auto-pilot rather than conscious attack, what actually happened was that Anakin sprung forward just as Palpatine's foot shot up, hands lifting the Chancellor's other foot off the ground, causing Palpatine to flip backwards, landing face down on the floor with Anakin on top.

* * *

Anakin smiled through his bloody mouth. _I have you now…_

* * *

_Oh, I'm afraid you are mistaken, dear boy… _Both of them shot into the air, spinning horizontally, and Anakin's hands were pushed off by a wave of the Force and his back latched onto in a talon-like grip. They plummeted back down onto the floor, with Palpatine on top and Anakin lying on his stomach dripping blood onto the floor.

Palpatine calmly held Anakin still with the Force, totally freezing all movement. An idea suddenly came into his mind… _why not?_

Darth Sidious always did this to his partner. He did not tolerate any movement from the other person, always relishing the pain he inflicted on his helpless victim.

He moved his hand slightly and Anakin's jodhpurs slid down.

* * *

The pain hit Anakin instantly and sweat poured from his face as he tried to move to escape the pain that assaulted his very insides. He cried out, garbled screeches because his lips wouldn't work.

* * *

Palpatine felt Anakin's distress. Pain clearly wasn't an aphrodisiac for the poor boy. He clearly would have to relegate himself to the inferior position in the future should he wish to keep Anakin's attention. Slightly disappointing, but it did have the advantage of the boy always underestimating him.

He fed Anakin his pleasure, letting him feel Palpatine's exultation at the boy's pain before sending him into unconsciousness with a blink of his ice blue eyes.

* * *

Anakin woke up naked in Palpatine's bed. The Chancellor laid beside him, asleep, no trace of the vengeful creature of a few hours before in his pale features. He remembered Palpatine flipping him into the floor and then nothing.

As the Chancellor's soft breathing lulled Anakin to sleep he closed his eyes and wondered groggily where Palpatine hid that violent nature.

He opened his eyes again, looking up. _Oh_, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, _on the ceiling… _

_

* * *

_

**That's it, my dears. Hope it satisfied you. **


	14. A Study of Fate in Red

**Chapter Fourteen** – _A Study of Fate in Red_

**Author's Note: **I love opera, so I'm aware of how similar it can be to this actual story. Palpatine's comments on the plot are… well… I couldn't resist. When Anakin says "Sabacc," I've used it as the equivalent of our "Bingo." This is the… er… electrifying chapter. I have stayed much closer to the events in the book for the fight scene, mainly because I have easy access to the book – but not the movie script.

Catcher-In-The-Rye – More sexual overtones…? I'll try…

faer – That's the idea. My mother is disgusted with me, but that's the idea!

Rushumble – Thankyou. I know what it's like, desperately searching the net for Palpatine stories… but now I've found something even weirder to do…!

Lady Sidious – You're dreaming about it as well? Oh my goodness… Well, that makes three of us: me, you and LLL… anyone else? Hands up!

Agny – How did I become Palpatine's fan? Well… it's complicated, and involves some role-playing… You see, me and my friends were um… role-playing Star Wars. And SOMEONE had to be Palpatine. As this was before the prequels, playing the emperor was not an attractive prospect. So, nice person that I am, I volunteered. And discovered something… playing Palpatine was _marvellous… _It was so incredibly fun and never boring. So as this was a sort of club thing we kept it up with our set characters – for quite a long time actually. So I had gotten very deeply into the character and I guess that's how I get him so IC.

Ziggy – Yes! That's EXACTLY my idea on promises!

Annette – He is going to say "hold me" and mean it – but this is PALPY! I'll take a while to get there! With reference to the "Fed Anakin…" line, what I meant was that Palpatine is projecting his love of Anakin's pain into Anakin's consciousness. I'm sorry if I was unclear. PS – I _love_ the word pallid!

LLL – Is it LLL or just LL? I'm confused. Anyway, I am enjoying your story very much, so I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Kittenmommy – I've found a new way to motivate you? I'm glad… does this mean there will be more Palpy/Sabé? Please…

Maelicia – That's… awful! And yet, so terribly funny! Much like my story… Oh well, my mum is DISGUSTED by what I write. She thinks I'm mentally disturbed. I probably am…

Uryel – Actually, I haven't made up my mind on the eventual ending.

Lady Vader 2884 – Thanks, I tried to keep it erotic without actually being naughty (until the end anyway).

Princess Desire – Pats you on the head and gives you a fish.

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

AS-EP-AS-EP-AS

Anakin opened his eyes to the warm darkness of the room. He ached all over, and shifted uncomfortably under the black shimmersilk sheets. Yesterday, Palpatine must have knocked him out when he slammed Anakin into the floor. It was odd, but Anakin couldn't help but feel a nagging sensation, that there was something that had slipped from his memory. Maybe a dream…

A gently sleeping body shifted against Anakin, as Palpatine unknowingly curled his small feet around to tops of Anakin's shins. The Chancellor's thin lips quivered slightly, before his breathing once again drew deeply from his chest. Anakin simply gazed at the slumbering man.

_Who would have thought he could fight like that? _Anakin asked himself. _He's always seemed so frail…_ But that reminded Anakin of the scale of deception played upon him. _I could end it now, _he thought. _Thousands of people would be in my debt. I could reach out to that pale throat and…_

The Chancellor gave a small snort that made Anakin tense. Then Palpatine yawed and opened his eyes slowly and they seemed to glisten in the dark. "Anakin?" he said, voice drowsy. "Did you have another dream?"

Anakin shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "No, nothing like that…" he said, almost surprised. "I'm just aching from that pasting."

Palpatine gave a sleepy chuckle and closed his eyes once more.

_I just can't do it. _Anakin didn't know if this made him more or less evil than Palpatine himself_. Beings would continue to die because Anakin Skywalker, who once wanted to save the galaxy, loved the man responsible too much to kill him._

He leaned over to brush his lips over the fans of wrinkles that spread out from the corner of Palpatine's eyes. The Chancellor sighed pleasurably and nestled closer. Anakin gently rolled Palpatine so that he was resting on top of Anakin as they kissed. A curtain was drawn over the galaxy that, for a short time, created the illusion that they were all that existed.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Palpatine had already gotten up by the time Anakin reawakened. Outside, the sky was dark and overcast, the clouds seemingly bruised by the amount of moisture they carried. It still felt very early to Anakin, but he heaved himself out of bed and padded over to the wardrobe where (as he'd said to Palpatine, "the robes were well warded,") Anakin's clothes now resided there too.

Anakin still wasn't used to choosing his clothes, so he always just went for the most practical stuff. He pulled on a clean, black shirt, matching pants and a grey, belted tunic over the top.

Not bothering to shave just yet, Anakin went into the study. If Palpatine wasn't in here in the mornings he was most often already at the Senate building, usually having a small breakfast there, rather than – horror of horrors – actually _missing_ some important information concerning the day's debate.

Anakin stared into the streamlined study, done in a burnt maroon, like old blood. Here, as with everywhere else, Palpatine had placed some tasteful objects'd art; though Anakin always found them slightly unsettling – faceless sculptures or a beautiful human face ensnared in a smooth metal structure… they were strange.

The room was empty of its owner, but Anakin could still almost taste Palpatine's presence in the very architecture. Wandering idly over, Anakin plonked himself down in the all encompassing office chair, although the desk seemed quite a way down, as the chair was set at a higher level than was comfortable for the tall Anakin. He pushed around on the soft carpet with his feet, making the chair spin slowly.

There was a computer set into the top of the desk. Busy making the chair spin, Anakin must have accidentally hit the "on" button. A mechanical voice asked for a password. Anakin halted the chair thoughtfully, looking down at the keypad.

He considered carefully. It wouldn't be anything obvious, knowing Palpatine, but it would be fitting. Anakin typed '_Darth Sidious' _into the computer. Nothing… _OK_… he tried _'Sith Master,' _still, nothing. Anakin keyed in everything he could think of relating to sith, but nothing worked. He tried to think about what Palpatine liked… What _did_ Palpatine like? Opera… expensive stuff… artwork? _Wait a minute_… Anakin keyed in _'Fate.'_ No… What was the name of that painting? He tried _'Red Fate.'_ No response. Wait, these things had fancy names, didn't they? He keyed in _'A Study of Fate in Red."_

_"Sabacc…"_ Anakin murmured, as there computer screen filled with files. There were thousands of them, all written in archaic pictograms that Anakin seemed to recognise from somewhere. He selected a random file. A mass of shimmering writing was holo-projected. Anakin _had_ seen that writing before, he was sure… at the Jedi Temple… That was it! Obi-Wan had made Anakin go to a class on the Sith Order. Obi-Wan had said that he was sure that Naboo was merely an opening move for something more sinister. _Well, Obi-Wan,_ Anakin sighed, _it's nice to know you got something right… _

Expecting evil sith artefacts and weapons, Anakin had been disappointed by the class. Although deciphering sith poems might be Master C'Baoth's idea of fun, it certainly wasn't Anakin's. He'd spent an intensely boring few days learning a few symbols and what a good Padawan ought to do when discovering a Sith artefact. Dead dull.

There were very few symbols Anakin recognised in the data file, partly because they'd been working on a poem written by some dead Sith Lord about a planet called Korriban – and this was probably a political draft of some kind – and partly because Anakin hadn't been paying attention in class.

But there was one character he recognised (apart from all the "and" symbols) and that pictogram meant "emperor."

_Emperor _– an ultimate ruler, someone with the power of life and death over a vast empire, in this case, a _galactic _empire.

Anakin had been living in a dream world. The Clone Wars dragged on and Anakin had almost assumed they would go on forever. He'd accepted that his lover was a Sith Lord. But that fact was so large in itself that Anakin hadn't really though about what would happen next; the status quo was more than enough to deal with. But the war _would_ end, and with it, Palpatine's dictatorship – and if there was one fundamental fact that Anakin knew about Sith Lords, it was that they _never_ relinquished power.

And there was another pictogram he recognised – "Jedi," and a few symbols along there was the word for "destroy." _All the Jedi… would be destroyed._ _How?_ But there wasn't anything else he could translate. _Yoda, Obi-Wan, Youvin… **everyone…** _Anakin might not like his fellow Jedi but… could he stand by and see them _slaughtered?_

Anakin shut his eyes tight to dam the tears that threatened to spill. _Why did Palpatine have to do this, why couldn't he just… _

It was too much and all Anakin's hard worn decisions seemed to slip away, the reasons for them evaporating. Without the – _hah!_ – Chancellor there to change his mind, Anakin's duty was clear. As long as it would only be an arrest, as long as they wouldn't… He couldn't let Palpatine do this. He would go to Obi-Wan…

_… And pray his heart would forgive him._

DS-DV-DS-DV-DS

Palpatine looked out of his office at the tall spires of the Jedi Temple, towering up through the low clouds that surrounded the four pinnacles. The air had that heady quality of anticipation that happens before a storm, perfectly complimenting the Supreme Chancellor's own feelings. He inhaled deeply.

He watched, as below, beings scurried across Monument Square, heads down, anxious to be inside before the downpour. He had set his computer to activate the moment Anakin walked into the study and put all his most incriminating files on obvious display – actually, he had merely copied the same file to make sure Anakin happened upon the right one; the one that was, by now, completely wiped from his personal computer. It was a small gamble setting it to require a password – but he had talked to Anakin at great length about his favourite piece and he was certain the boy would get it eventually.

It was a test of Anakin's loyalty… But it was also an important step in the overall plan. If Anakin did nothing, then Palpatine was secure. If the boy decided to take this information to the Jedi, then the next stage in his plan would be set into motion. With Master Kenobi triumphant (and, more importantly, on the far side of the known galaxy) the war was over and a new conflict was about to be realised; the one that Palpatine had been waiting for all along.

He had told Anakin that they would be attending the Opera tonight. If the boy had any sense he would tell Master Windu to wait until afterwards, when there would be no one else about in his scarlet chambers. When – as Anakin well knew – Palpatine sent the guards away.

The stage was set. The Senate would meet tomorrow to discuss the end of the war and by that time it would be too late. Too late to save the Republic and too late to save the Jedi…

As he gazed out at the dark clouds, Palpatine reached out a pale hand to touch the transparasteel – to make sure the moment was real. Smooth coldness connected with his fingertips. Palpatine's mouth twitched into what might have been a smile. The final act was about to unfold… and then…

His diamond hard eyes glittering like ice, Palpatine stared at his reflection in the window. The final touches were being applied to a masterpiece.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Mace Windu stood still as the blue glow of the holo-projector flickered off. The Supreme Chancellor could not avoid this now. The Council had voted on the matter and Master Windu and three other masters would go to Palpatine and make him give up his emergency powers.

He stood in silence for a moment, sinking into the infinite calmness of the Force.

The door shot open, bathing the room in the yellow glow of the hall lights, as the chamber had been dimmed for the holo-conference.

A dishevelled figure almost fell into the room, a black cloak disguising the identity of the unsteady biped.

"Master…" the figure whispered hoarsely, shaking all over, as if in pain. "Master Windu… I…"

If Mace hadn't recognised the Force signature of the man before him he wouldn't have believed this was happening. "Skywalker," he said gravely, reaching out to support the Chosen One. "What's wrong, are you hurt?"

_"Obi-Wan…"_ Anakin gasped, "I need to speak to _Obi-Wan!" _

Mace shook his head. "Obi-Wan is on Utapau," he said, wondering that Anakin did not know this. "Anakin, what's wrong?"

"_Listen to me_ – you _have_ to listen to me…! Just promise me you won't _hurt_ him! _PLEASE! You have to promise me…" _He gripped the front of Mace's robes, sagging against him, sweaty hands like iron.

Skywalker continued babbling. "Promise me it'll only be an _arrest!_ That's all I ask…! _I can't_…" Anakin's eyes were raw and red, and he moved like a hunted animal.

"Calm down…" said Mace authoritatively, "and tell me what's wrong."

Anakin shut his eyes a sucked his breath in, clearly attempting to control himself. Then he opened his eyes and said something that would've knocked a lesser man than Mace Windu to the ground.

_"Palpatine is Sidious. The Chancellor is the Sith Lord."_

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

They had agreed to wait until after the opera. Anakin would attend with Palpatine and then the Jedi would gain entrance to the Chancellor's private apartments, for Anakin would let them in as he left the apartment. It was agreed that Anakin was not emotionally fit to face Palpatine.

And so Anakin waited on the Chancellor's personal landing pad, waiting for Palpatine's personal shuttle to pick him up. It was still early evening, but the sky was already dark, the sunset obscured by threatening rain clouds.

Anakin shuffled his feet. He was dressed in a sharply cut, black, almost military tunic with his jodhpurs and boots. In deference to the evening he'd also worn a dark blue cape that tied across his chest with fine silk cords. But under this fine veneer, Anakin was eaten alive by fear. _How would he get through the evening! How could he sit next to Palpatine… knowing… _

But the arrival of the shuttle cut short Anakin's thoughts. The steps were lowered and Anakin took a deep breath and ascended.

DS-DV-DS-DV-DS

Palpatine sat on a soft, bench-like seat, dressed in slightly more practicable robes than usual. The robes were of warm, black velvet, with a floor-length, sleeveless, rich, blood-coloured coat over the top. Crimson-clad guards stood on either side of him. For once, he was without his aides and had only what Anakin referred to as the "travelling set" of eight guards. Anakin felt they were going to attack him at any moment.

A small hand waved Anakin over. He obediently sat down beside Palpatine, noticing as he did so that there was a single seat opposite them, which was obviously the one the Chancellor usually sat in.

"You can't imagine how much I've been looking forward to this all day," said Palpatine cheerfully, smiling at the nervous Anakin.

"Er… what?" Anakin stuttered, wondering how Palpatine could possibly be feeling happy when Anakin's emotional lift was on a par with a dead bantha.

"The opera, Anakin, _the_ _opera!"_ Palpatine shook his head. "It's the premiere of a new work. You will enjoy it, I assure you. It's actually based on Alderaani mythology and it's about a Fairy Empress called Cybele, who…" The Chancellor shot Anakin an interrogative glance. "Anakin," he said slowly, "why are you looking at me like that?"

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

There was cheering and screaming and the flash of recording devices and hover-cams as they disembarked. Anakin helped Palpatine down, as was expected, and they descended the steps together, to walk the stretch of carpet that led into Galaxies Opera House, with four of the Chancellor's Guard on either side. Anakin focused on keeping his breathing calm. Palpatine smiled softly, in a dignified way, even as journalists shouted questions about the intimate details of his life with Anakin.

As they entered the Chancellor's box there was instant applause that made Anakin jump slightly. A sea of faces looked up and across at them, loudly declaring their approval. Palpatine let go of Anakin and approached the edge of the box to acknowledge their applause. He clasped his hands together and inclined his head regally, before taking his seat.

"Do you get that often?" Anakin asked distractedly.

"More often than not," Palpatine replied, robes rustling as he settled into his chair. "It shows that, whatever certain members of the Senate may think, my policies are popular with the people. Unlike my predecessor, I, as an obscure Sectorial senator from Naboo, had to earn their applause."

But then the lights dimmed and the stage was illuminated with colour. The overture began, filling the auditorium with music. Anakin and Palpatine turned their eyes to the stage.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Although no one was aware of it but Palpatine, this opera was being performed strictly for the benefit of one person: Anakin. _Oh, if he only knew how the narrative unfolded… _Palpatine smiled inwardly.

A beautiful human woman stepped onto the stage, surrounded by what appeared to be courtiers. She wore a sparkling dress of what seemed like purple silk and wore a shining silver crown over her powdered silver hair. She sang, in a glorious soprano, of the terrible war of her people against those who sought to overthrow her empire. But, she said, her seer had told her that one had been born who could save her from this conflict, but this saviour was one of the human men who warred against her. The Empress knew that she must persuade him onto her side – but how?

She resolved to turn herself into a human and attempt to seduce him. In the final stages of the first aria she entreats her servants to tell her of human behaviour so she might assume the air of a young human girl.

Palpatine slid his eyes sideways to observe Anakin's reaction. He was staring fixedly at the stage, as if it was a dangerous creature liable to attack at any time. Palpatine turned his eyes back to Empress Cybele. Whatever else tonight might be, it was certain to be entertaining.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Anakin watched, spellbound. It was almost as if his and Palpatine's love affair had been taken, swapped around a bit, and churned out with different characters but the same dialog turned into lyrics.

_Oh, can you see,_

_How easily_

_He falls for my deception?_

_A great delight,_

_I'll bind him tight_

_With chains of deep affection!_

_So gaze at me,_

_My dear quarry,_

_And follow to my direction!_

This, the Empress sang playfully to the audience, while batting her eyelashes at Carres, the bewildered young hero. Anakin turned to Palpatine, wanting to seen his reaction. But the Chancellor sat with his eyes half-closed, his head moving ever so slightly in time to the music.

The first Act ended when Cybele is revealed as the fairy Empress and Carres's enemy. They had a passionate row, done in a fast, waltz tempo, and then the curtain went down.

"Enjoying it?" Palpatine inquired lightly.

"Er…" Anakin foundered, "it's very… deep."

"Nonsense, Anakin!" Palpatine waved a pale hand in the direction of the stage. "It's extremely shallow, the lyrics are ridiculous, the characters are little more than archetypes, and, if I may say so, the plot is highly unrealistic. Fortunately, the music is excellent."

Anakin gawped at the Chancellor.

"There's only one question on my mind," Palpatine said thoughtfully.

Realising he had to participate in the conversation, Anakin asked, "What's that?"

"Well, the story being what it is, there are only two ways it can really end. Either, she makes him her consort, or she's killed and he kills himself." Palpatine said this incredibly casually.

"Isn't there another way?" Anakin asked desperately, no longer concerned with the opera.

"I'm afraid not," said Palpatine, his washed out blue eyes looking at Anakin with concern. "Are you quite alright, Anakin?" he asked. "You seem… distracted."

"I just… don't want Cybele to die," said Anakin, tuning away.

"Well, at least you're paying attention this time," said Palpatine, a hint of reproof in his voice.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Act Two opened at night, in an Alderaani style garden. Cybele has secretly come to Carres's home, where the hero is walking in his garden, for he cannot sleep. Cybele sings a heartbreaking song about how she has inadvertently fallen in love with Carres and begs him to help her. But Carres's refuses to listen, for he no longer trusts the Empress.

_I thought our love was quite unfeigned,_

_Our true love that you proclaimed,_

_I never questioned what you asked,_

_But now your poison is unmasked!_

_I refuse to be another pawn,_

_Oh, my dear, you do look so forlorn,_

_The effect is good, I will admit,_

_But I am not a willing conscript!_

Weeping, Cybele leaves. But while Carres is debating whether to go to her or join the army besieging her castle, the Empress loses the battle. Carres finally decides to go to his love, but arrives too late to save her, the Empress eventually dying in his arms.

Anakin wiped tears from his cheeks as he watched Carres lay Cybele gently on the ground. Carres sang, wracked by sadness and guilt, of how he found he couldn't live without Cybele, his voice swelling with grief. He took up the wand which lay by her side and plunged it through his heart.

_What have I done?_

_My tears fall on a body as cold as your disguise…_

_I cannot live,_

_Without the moonlight falling from your pallid blue eyes…_

Anakin froze. His heart appeared to have stopped in his throat. _What **had** he done?_ As the curtain descended, accompanied by enthusiastic applause, Anakin began to shiver with dread. His future had been acted out on the stage as surely as if he had been the one singing.

Palpatine stood up slowly, stretching. "Let's go now, Anakin," he said, signalling to his guard. "Before the rest of the audience has finished their clapping. I have ordered the shuttle to come to a side entrance, so as not to attract too much attention."

_No! _Anakin wanted to scream. _You can't go! _For he realised now what a stupid mistake he had made. If he had only told Master Windu that Palpatine was going to declare himself emperor, nothing else, then there was a chance the Sith Lord would live. But he'd told Windu everything… so Palpatine would be dead before the night was over… and all because of Anakin, who had betrayed Palpatine as surely as Carres had betrayed Cybele.

_It was the Jedi or Palpatine._ The choice had been before him all along, he just hadn't understood.

"Anakin," Palpatine asked, "are you coming?"

_What could he say but yes?_

"Yeah, I'm coming…" said Anakin, getting up.

DS-DV-DS-DV-DS

They were both silent on the way back, Anakin holding that small body very close. Palpatine clearly had no idea what would happed. He leaned against Anakin, pale blue eyes mellow. Every single touch of that crinkled skin was illuminated in Anakin's mind and he attempted to completely memorise each sensation.

Anakin was slowly rotting from the inside as they drew closer to the 500 Republica. He felt incapable of action; he only knew he wanted Palpatine in his arms for as long as possible. He felt like he had leaving Tantooine when he was a child. Then, he had known he had to let go of his mother, but wanted her embrace to last forever.

_But why must the Jedi always take everything? _A voice in his head asked. _Why must they always tear you away from those you love?_

_If Qui-Gon Jinn had taken your mother, she wouldn't have died…_

It was impossible. Thoughts swirled round and round in the whirlpool of Anakin's mind, sinking into black despair.

Amongst the rush of thoughts, one rose to the surface...

_Palpatine loves you._

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

The red apartments seemed blurred as Anakin entered. He felt dizzy and sick as he reached the front door. He had carried Palpatine into the bedroom, so that he did not see the Jedi appear on the screen.

"Return soon, Anakin," the Chancellor had said, smiling gently.

The door slid open and Anakin hardly saw the four Jedi Masters standing there. "I… I can't let you do this…" he said faintly, eyes misting over.

"Then I will make the decision for you," said Mace Windu firmly.

DS-DV-DS-DV-DS

Palpatine felt it as Anakin was knocked out. He stood up and walked slowly out of the bedroom, into the lounge, where four Jedi stood, waiting. With a mental flick he turned on a recording device set into the ceiling. The Supreme Chancellor of the Republic smoothed his robes and gave a self deprecating smile.

"Why, Master Windu," he said graciously, "what a pleasant surprise."

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Mace Windu's humming, purple blade ignited, followed by the green lightsabers of Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar and Sarsee Tin. "Hardly a surprise, Chancellor," said Master Windu gravely, "and it will be pleasant for neither of us."

"What is the meaning of this?" gasped Palpatine theatrically, thoroughly enjoying his role as helpless elder statesman.

"You are under arrest," said Master Windu in tones of steel.

"You cannot be serious, Master Windu!" Palpatine continued in the same vein, feeling his lightsaber press against his wrist, "On what charge?"

"Surely you must know, _Master Sidious_," replied Mace Windu, adjusting his grip on his blade.

"You're _mad…"_ Palpatine breathed, inching backwards. He looked desperately into the faces of each of the four Jedi. "Master Tin," he begged, "you're the telepath. What am I thinking right now?"

Sarsee Tin cocked his head to think, inadvertently allowing his weapon to dip from its defensive position. Too quickly for anyone to see how it was done; a lash of bright red fire flashed once and Sarsee Tin crumbled, his head bouncing when it hit the blood-red carpet.

"It doesn't…" Agen Kolar whispered, as a beam of red heat was thrust through the back of his head, shining out of his forehead, "…hurt." The blade was retracted and the Jedi Master fell.

The shadows of the room danced and shifted as the two remaining Jedi stared at Palpatine, who now stood in the doorway, a red lightsaber held in his right hand.

Then, under the Jedis' astonished eyes, Palpatine began to scream. "Help!" he cried, "Security –_someone!_ Help me! _Murder! Treason!" _

Then a smile spread across his cold features and, holding a single finger to his lips, he winked.

"If you only knew," he said quietly, eyes glowing gold in the dim light, "how long I've been waiting for this…"

The heavens opened and lightning seared across the sky, flashing across the faces of the three still figures before everything was hurled into darkness and chaos.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Anakin woke up. He lay in the entrance hall. It took a moment for him to realise what was happening. The crash of the storm outside drowned out any sounds coming from the other room.

The bodies of two Red Guards lay beside him, spread across the ground. Anakin was filled with a terrible fear – _what if he was already too late?_

He grabbed a Force Pike from the gloved hand of a fallen guard and turned it on, turning the voltage up as high as it would go, and typed in the pass code to open the door.

Two brilliant lightsabers flashed against the rain-swept darkness of the smashed transparasteel window. Freezing rain drove into the room, soaking the overturned furniture and dead bodies that littered the floor.

Lightning blazed across the sky, so close as to be followed immediately by deafening thunder and a metallic object flew across the room, catching the light. Anakin snatched it out of the air. A gold and silver lightsaber, built for a small hand.

Mace Windu advanced on Palpatine, forcing him backwards till his back was against the curve of the window frame. "You _fool!"_ Anakin heard the Chancellor roar, "you think it is _my_ fear you sense!"

Crackling, blue lightning arched from Palpatine's fingertips, connecting with Master Windu's lightsaber. But the energy of the purple blade held, redirecting the searing Dark Side power back at its source…

_"Anakin!" _Palpatine shrieked, _"Anakin, help me!"_ the Chancellor cried, the vivid blue lightning blazing around him. "_Help me!_ I… I can't hold on any longer!" He writhed in pain, like a small creature caught in a snare. "He's _killing_ me, _Anakin!_ _Anakin…! Arrrrrrrrgggghhhhhh!"_

Anakin didn't even think. He threw himself towards Mace Windu, igniting the red lightsaber even as it connected with the Jedi Master's purple weapon. For a split second their eyes met, opaque brown meeting fiery blue, before the bolt of Force lightning struck the Jedi, hurling him into stormy oblivion.

Very still, Anakin gazed down at the abyssal drop, down which Mace Windu had fallen. His grip on the lightsaber failed and he fell to his knees.

"Anakin," a voice whispered in his ear. Anakin turned to face the man beside him. Palpatine looked older than Anakin had ever seen him, his face paler than before, as if the Dark Side had leached it of colour. The lines on his face were somehow deeper, his body more frail.

"Let's get out of the rain," said Anakin simply, for there was nothing else he could say. He helped Palpatine up and collected the lightsabers that were strewn across the room. He then went outside and pressed the security button in the hallway. There was no going back now.

"The Jedi have attempted to assassinate the Chancellor," he told the guards that came running. "Fortunately, I managed to defeat them before they accomplished their task."

Palpatine changed into dry clothes, a heavy, black, hooded robe with a thick, velvet mantle. He and Anakin stood in the hallway while security personnel swarmed around them. The Chancellor was still shivering slightly of cold and Anakin put his arms around him protectively so Palpatine's head rested on Anakin's chest.

"You know what must happen now, Anakin?" said Palpatine quietly, so no one else could hear.

"Yes," said Anakin sadly, hugging the Chancellor tighter.

"Then do what must be done."

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

**That surely must be the longest chapter yet! OK… so I wimped out, I _couldn't_ do it to darling Palpy… Leave us a review, precious! Let us see what you think of us!**


	15. Happy Empire Day

Chapter Fifteen – _Happy Empire Day_

**Author's Note: **Umm… Declaration of Empire, Order 66, and Darth Vader helping Palpatine into his (coronation) robes…

Reviewers – I love you all and I will reply to you all in the next chapter – but this Chapter has completely taken it out of me. I'm sorry - I'm crying!

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

* * *

The day dawned blue, and raw with cold, as if the air was still hurting from last night's storm, and although unspeakable things had occurred during the night, now all was past and you could almost pretend it never happened.

Anakin had returned with worn, yellow eyes and a desperate need for comfort. They did not speak of what he had done – for both knew, in their different ways – that it had been necessary for their future. Anakin had caused the death of a Jedi Master. Whatever occurred next, he would be killed for it. So he had struck first, as the Chancellor had ordered, binding his fate to Palpatine forever.

And Palpatine had issued another order, and order that would be spoken with awe, horror and pride for centuries to come. "The beginning of the Jedi Purge…" teachers would tell their disinterested students, "marks the beginning of Empire in something more tangible than mere amendments…" But for now the ink is still wet on the pages of history.

Surrounded by guards and concerned aides, Palpatine appeared unreachable when Anakin returned. He was barely visible through the crowd of beings, only in the autocratic wave of a hand and a flash of white hair. Anakin reached out a tendril with the Force, to tell Palpatine of his need. The reply was instant.

_Wait, just a moment._

There was something surreal about the way the press of people flowed around the small Chancellor, like liquid swirling around a powerful whirlpool. Unable to see with his eyes, Anakin saw Palpatine in the Force, a great black hole, an entrance point to impenetrable darkness. He was talking seriously to a presence Anakin recognised as Sate Pestage.

Anakin actually felt the pattern of the crowd shift, as its centre moved outwards towards Anakin. "There is an empty apartment two floors down, which I have had our clothes and our more necessary items moved to," Palpatine told Anakin as they walked together, two beings truly alone and yet, pressed in on all sides.

They found themselves in an apartment decorated in an eggshell blue. It was a testimony to the skills of the Chancellor's aides in adverse situations that a fully furnished suite had been immaculately arranged and all the necessary items moved within half an hour. The red lacquered bed, too large for the bedroom, appeared radically out of place in the light blue room, but Anakin was somehow reassured by its presence,

Finally, they embraced, and Anakin's tears flowed freely as he gripped Palpatine as tight as he could, desperate for the reassurance, the _insistence_ that he had made the right decision, the faces of the slaughtered younglings as fresh as the blood that had soaked the Temple floor.

Anakin seemed to crumble to the floor in front of the Chancellor, and Palpatine sank his wrinkled hands into Anakin's matted, blond hair. "Is it necessary to ask, Anakin?" the Chancellor said, with incredible softness, answering the unspoken question. "You have done well. You made the _right_ choice, my new apprentice. You have been cleansed of the Jedi filth. Do you swear fealty to the Order of the Sith Lords, renouncing your previous vows?

"I swear," whispered Anakin.

"Then you shall henceforth be known as Darth -"

_There was enough time for a breath and then…_

"- Vader."

And this approval warmed Anakin like blazing sunlight heated the sands of Tantooine. No longer Anakin Skywalker, he had been created anew and all the pain and suffering would end. He was Palpatine's and Palpatine was his, and that was all that mattered. He pressed himself up against the Chancellor, crushing the black brocade against his body.

And, as if the merciless slaughter the two of them had initiated had drained them of their destructive passion, their lovemaking was the most gentle, intimate connection possible between two beings. Old ivory slid against sun-baked smoothness, and both experienced a quality of tenderness they had never known before; rooted in something that broke through the barriers of the mind and spun on, weaving them together in intricate patterns of ecstasy.

* * *

When Palpatine awoke it was if he was inside a warm membrane that seemed to encompass his entire being. He drowsily opened his eyes, realising as he did so that he was contained in Anakin's arms, that heavy body completely shielding him from the chill of the morning. He doubted anyone had bothered to activate the heating systems for the apartment.

For the first time in many years, Palpatine experienced something akin to the excitement of a child on realising that today is their Day of Life, the recollection of which, up until that moment, had been buried in the fog of sleep. Not wanting to get up just yet, Palpatine lay there enjoying simply _knowing_ what would happen today, and savouring the pleasure of having it all to come. He ran his speech over in his head, editing certain passages where he was not satisfied, staring up at the expanse of eggshell blue above him. _A new day… _he composed dreamily, _a new era… _

Anakin stirred and stretched his body out, and Palpatine felt the muscles extend and contract. "Good morning, Lord Vader," he said conversationally, as the newly created Sith Lord opened his eyes.

"Wha-?" his apprentice half-asked, blinking. "Oh… right. Good morning then."

"Why, thank you," said Palpatine, in a festive mood, "I greatly appreciate your concern."

"Oh, shut up," said Vader, burying his head under a pillow.

It was a game, a wonderful game of pretend. Darth Vader pretended that they were just two people in love, that there was nothing outside of this unity and buried yesterday's bloodshed in the deepest part of his consciousness. For his part, Palpatine outwardly pretended that he cared for the young man, while inwardly pretending that he didn't. But the game continued, running on ahead of the players.

Palpatine pulled on the discarded outer-robe of last night over his pale skin and, holding the front of the black robe shut, made his way into the bathroom. There was a tiled dark blue bath of a reasonable size and, after filling it with water, neatly folding his robe and placing it neatly on the side of the bath; he sank into the clear, steaming water.

He washed himself thoroughly, glad that someone had remembered the liquid soap. He wanted to be at his best for today and it was annoying that he didn't have all the elements of his toilette as ordered and accessible as usual.

Reluctantly, Palpatine got out of the bath and dried himself thoroughly with one of his own thick, black towels, before padding into the other room, towel around his waist, to gather up the clothes he needed for the day. Anakin – no, Vader – watched from the bed as Palpatine methodically searched for the robes he wanted. The Chancellor ran his hands over the rich, scarlet cloth, tracing the embroidery with his thumbs. He'd had this robe made especially for this occasion, five years ago. The fitting at Grimulche's was almost more than he could stand, feeling the weight of the fabric against his skin, _knowing_ that the next time he wore this, he would be…

_Don't think of it, _a part of him ordered sternly. _Do not imagine that your plans are foolproof and be ready to improvise. Much can be achieved in a day, as you well know._

He put on the maroon calottes and underobe that would be worn underneath and felt around with the Force for his dressing droids. Unfortunately, it appeared that they had been forgotten. He glanced behind him.

_Would you mind? _He asked through the Force, slightly embarrassed that he needed help.

Darth Vader got up wordlessly and approached Palpatine, taking the crimson robe from his arms. It seemed to be in two pieces, with a matching mantle. He held open the back of the robe, while Palpatine stepped in, and carefully did up the row of catches that ran up the back. Then he attached the long, draping cape to the Chancellor's shoulders and settled the mantle around his neck. Palpatine closed his eyes as those workman-like hands dressed him.

"You never wear red," Vader said seriously, gazing at Palpatine. "It fills your apartment, but I've never seen you in it. Why?"

"Red is a fitting colour for neither a Sith Lord nor a Supreme Chancellor. Both must be understated, the one appearing dignified and unassuming, and the other an entity of such power that a display of opulence is quite uncalled for. Today, however, is an exception."

Vader narrowed his eyes. "And what happens today?" he asked slowly.

"Why, my dear boy, surely you are capable of answering that yourself?" Palpatine said, moving towards the door.

_Really! He can be so obtuse, must I explain everything?_

"I suggest you get dressed, Lord Vader," continued Palpatine, his eyes oddly misty. "I expect you the leave for Mustafar immediately. There are some… remnants, I wish you to deal with."

* * *

There was an intense air of repressed excitement in the Chancellor's Holding Office. All Palpatine's advisors and aides were crowded around, Sly Moore stood quietly behind the Chancellor, keeping the others at a distance. Everyone's eyes were riveted to Palpatine, realising that in this moment history would be made.

The Supreme Chancellor himself appeared unconcerned by this tension. He mounted the Podium silently his thoughts turned inwards. Those concerned took their positions on the podium and then the hydraulic pillar began to rise into the Grand Convocation Chamber of the Galactic Senate.

Palpatine's pale eyes took in the scene, releasing nothing back. He breathed deeply and listened to the hum of every kind of dialect, whispering, wondering…

So familiar to him in every respect, this immense sea of politicians, buzzing like some alien hive. All this would soon be obsolete, toppled by a higher power. It pleased Darth Sidious to think of himself in this way.

_Nevertheless, _he thought, as applause thundered from the Senate, _I shall miss this part of my life. It was a time of startling achievement and intricate invention. To see the plan I envisaged all those years ago, realised in every brilliant detail… _

His eyes grew moist for a moment, and he blinked, a slow rise and fall of those heavy lids, and the emotion was gone. In its place there was the arctic chill of a pair of eyes that had discarded their humanity.

* * *

Darth Vader gazed around at the destruction of the Separtist conference room. Magma flared outside, its hypnotic brightness draining the room of light. The Sith Lord did not look at the bodies that littered the floor. Instead his gaze was turned to a hologram in the centre of the room.

It his heart the dead were not real, all that was real was the blue flicker of the hologram, a reality the Sith Lord had to believe in with all his soul.

"The separatist leadership is no more, my Master," he said to the holographic figure, head bowed, yet eyes fixed on Palpatine's face.

_"It is finished then," _image said, thin lips curling into a cold smirk. _"I am pleased at your success, Lord Vader." _Palpatine's mouth tightened and he gazed sternly at his apprentice. _"I sense a disturbance in the Force,"_ he said curtly, _"You may be in danger."_

Anakin shook his head, "How am I in danger?" he asked, forgetting the protocol and reverting to the intimate conversation to which he was more used.

_"I cannot say,"_ Palpatine said carefully, _"but the danger is real. Be mindful, my apprentice."_

_

* * *

_

Clone Intelligence had previously traced the Separatist Council to Mustafar, in one of the last reports the Jedi had received.

For Obi-Wan Kenobi it was a simple matter to find where to look once he realised that Anakin had no presence on Coruscant.

He did not need to see the footage of Anakin's slaughter of the Temple innocents. He knew, as soon as the Sith Master had been revealed to him, what would happen – what he had been stupid enough to let happen.

Push Anakin towards Palpatine in order to draw out the Sith Lord. In theory, it worked. A good plan with only one flaw, but that flaw was gaping hole that hadn't been seen until too late.

The emperor had already won.

Now all Obi-Wan could do was attempt to correct a fatal mistake.

* * *

The small green Jedi fell from the Senatorial pod, defeated. Darth Sidious exalted, filled with triumph. The Sith were once again the rulers of the galaxy. The true masters of –

_No! _

Darth Sidious was banished from his thoughts and the crimson clad figure standing alone in the Senate was merely Palpatine. And Palpatine was terrified. He was no longer the Emperor or the Sith Master: for the moment he has forgotten the existence of titles. His eyes are no longer the powerful yellow of a few moments before, but the washed out colour of a tormented grey sea, for he has just realised something is wrong.

The Force coiled around him, following a link directly to the sensations of a being on the far side of the galaxy. Eyes close, allowing his vision to be filled by the Force,

_The hum of lightsabers, the touch of fire, a cry of pain… _

… Palpatine opened his eyes and ran, red robes splaying out behind him like the swirl of dark wine. He barely heard himself call for his shuttle.

* * *

Coming out of hyperspace, Palpatine watched the planet as they approached, from the depths of his throne. It was a great orb, torn by rivulets of fire, reflected in eyes haunted by the possibility of the impossible.

He did not move as the shuttle descended; his hands resting immobile on the armrests of the throne, screams of pain and anger ricocheting around his head. Palpatine waited, until he felt the shuttle touch the landing pad, before standing up slowly, as the gangway was smoothly lowered.

And then he was out, into the furnace that was Mustafar, into the blaze of heat that so mirrored the heart of his apprentice.

Who lay on the burning, black sand, the suggestion of smoke rising from his charred body. He was ruined, a blistering mass of melted flesh no longer recognisable as Anakin Skywalker.

Palpatine knelt beside the remains of his lover's body and laid a pale hand tenderly on the wreckage of his apprentice.

_Live for me, darling child. _

_Live._

_

* * *

_

It was only when the clones had bourn Lord Vader onto the ship and secured him inside the capsule that would preserve him until Palpatine could get back to Coruscant that the Emperor sank, exhausted, onto the bed provided on his long distance shuttle.

He wept. Where there was no one to see his weakness, in the perfect darkness of the bedroom. He wept for the horrible mass of charred flesh that had once completely enclosed him, whispering childish words of endearment, for the strong fingers that had helped him into these very robes, for that delicious warmth that dared to arouse feelings that had been dead for so long, if they had ever been felt at all.

In the solitude of his chambers, Palpatine wept for the loss of Anakin Skywalker.

* * *

**Leave a review, (I'm going away to cry)…**


	16. Masquerade

**Chapter Fifteen – _Masquerade_**

**Author's Note: **I am sorry for the lack of updates – but it was my birthday on the thirteenth and then I was on holiday. But here is the next chapter. I do realise that the chapter title is in heaps of fanfictions, but it seemed right. Due to the sheer onslaught of reviews – yes, Agny – I have given up answering them all, sticking to those you ask at question or pose an interesting comment. Be assured, however, that I love you all! Also, I have followed the idea that Palpatine is disfigured (YES!) by age rather than lightning. It fits my story better.

Blodeuedd – No it is not over, rest assured.

Agny – You're right: Padmé is an idiot. It really makes me wonder how she got to be a senator. Good PR I suppose.

LL – Ahem, speaking of evil plot twists…

Uryel – Sith bonding… not for a while sweetie. I'm sorry… At least, not this chapter.

Maelicia – 'A Room with a View' is a famous romance novel and movie. It's about a girl who meets a boy, convinces herself she is better off without boy; then gets back together with him… should give you some comfort. I chose it because I can't think of a time when Palpatine lacks a marvellous view. PS – could you post my pic on Unlimited Power – I've no idea how to do it and LL wants to see, it would be a great favour.

Eris – You are going to hate me for this one.

Ziggy – You leave such stupendous reviews – I can't believe it. Someone called you "the ideal reader." They are right.

Dietcokeani – It's the gift of all good writers to make you feel for their characters , especially the evil ones. Watch Shakespeare's Richard III for an idea on what I'm talking about. But, luckily, you are going to hate Palpy again this chapter.

Vampire Kid Kara – That's right – Palpatine must stay in character (slaps herself) HE MUST!

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Star Wars – if I did, I… Wait, thinking about that is _simply unbearable_! George Lucas is the Master and Owner.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

On Coruscant everyone was celebrating. Fireworks dazzled in the skies. Many of Coruscant's inhabitants were out on what passed for streets in the capitol. Labyrinthine paths and bridges were filled were crowded with beings, not to mention Monument Square, where an impromptu street party appeared to be taking place.

_Peace…_ said the cheers and whispers of the citizens, _the war is over! _The night air rang with celebration and every firework seemed like a manifestation of hope.

In one of the many apartments in the 500 Republica, a lone figure stood, wearing a trailing red robe that shone slightly in the dim aura of the lamps, gazing down at the celebrations. The red apartments had been restored in their owner's absence, and to the untrained eye it would appear that nothing had ever occurred.

But while rooms can be glossed over to appear as they were, for the mind, the process in irreversible. Even the most advanced mind wiping techniques fail to completely destroy the evidence of memory.

The Emperor couldn't help but remember another celebration, remarkably similar. There had been fireworks then too. He had stood in what felt like this exact spot, nestled in a warm embrace.

Thin lips twitched in disgust. _Weakness,_ Palpatine thought, turning away from the window.

_Finish it, _an insistent voice said. _Surely you realise that this attachment must end? It has outlived its purpose. Anything more would be an appalling indulgence._

It was perfectly true. Then why did Palpatine continue to desire Anakin? Not Lord Vader – Anakin. Darth Vader was a wreck, burnt and broken, lying comatose in a med-lab.

The Emperor clasped his hands together, before breaking them apart and running them down the silken folds of his red robes. They were crumpled now, creased from battle and his flight to rescue his apprentice. A far cry from his immaculate appearance – could it possibly have only have been yesterday morning?

A perfect yesterday morning, when those deft hands had done up the very clasps he could still feel up his back, before everything had been irreversibly changed

Palpatine's cool blue eyes settled on his reflection in the darkened glass, illuminated in the lamplight.

_It is fortunate that this occurred, _said that same icy voice inside him. _Otherwise you would never have awoken to the dangers you were beginning to expose yourself to. _

Palpatine swallowed and whetted his lips. His heavy eyelids descended and he once again turned away from the window, moving across to seat himself on the soft, black couch.

Milky blue eyes continued to follow the trail of festive explosions across the sky. This day should have been one of great exultation, of triumph. But all the Emperor could feel was numbness, as if allowing himself to be encased in metaphorical ice was causing him to lose feeling in his physical body. He looked with dread at the procession of celebratory functions it would be necessary to attend.

With a breath of what might have been regret, Palpatine stood up and made his way towards his bedroom to prepare himself for the evening.

The droids efficiently stripped him of various shades of soft, red material. Very quickly, he washed himself, before dressing in a blood-red velvet under-robe with gathered sleeves, over which he wore an over-robe of wispy black silk. The droids buzzed around him, re-adjusting the intricate folds of his brocade cloak.

Thus attired, Palpatine went out to grace the night with his presence, to be fêted and toasted with the clink of millions of glasses.

And anyone who saw the Emperor that night agreed that his conversation had never seemed more hypnotic, his gestures more eloquent and his smiles more charming. They would have said also, that he, above all, had cause to be celebratory.

But they would have been wrong.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

A week had passed since the famous Declaration of Empire. Palpatine sat in his deep throne, in what used to be the main office of the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, now the Imperial Throne Room. Redecorated in shiny, black, Alderaanian marble, (a fact which amused the Emperor) and gleaming silver panels, it was very different from the warm, airy office of barely a week ago.

But, to Palpatine's mind, the size was not nearly in accordance with his position as rightful sovereign of the known galaxy. He had discussed the matter with several most promising architects, all of whom agreed that no expense should be spared in creating a something suitable for Galactic Emperor. But for now, he would have to make do.

"The designs…" whispered the shaking man kneeling before the Emperor's throne. "Your Majesty, I _beg_ of you. I… there are better ways. We could create an artificial layer of skin… In fact, some droids have–"

Palpatine lifted a pale hand to stop the flow of words. "I do hope you are not questioning your instructions?" he said pleasantly.

"Of course not, Your Majesty! I am merely making a suggestion…!"

_Create an artificial Anakin, with skin one could almost convince oneself was real?_ Palpatine pursed his lips and flicked his gaze away from the prosthetics designer contemptuously.

_And yet, if it could be arranged…? _

_Never! I refuse to allow it! Anything that could provoke a relapse must be eliminated. I need a functional Sith apprentice – I do not require a handsome escort to the opera. I want to stare into my own soul when I see his face: black, implacable, immovable and cold. Make it grotesque, make it terrifying…_

"Your Majesty…?" began the designer tentatively.

Palpatine's blue eyes crystallized and focused on the man before him. "There will be no adjustments," he announced crisply, "follow your instructions and be thankful you do not suffer for your impertinence."

"Majesty, of course… I did not mean to question your commands…" the man gasped, backing away, almost colliding with a Red Guard on the way out.

The polished black throne swung slowly around to face outwards, to provide the occupant with a view of the glittering cityscape and the room was once again filled with solitude.

DV-EP-DV-EP-DV

The first thing Anakin heard was a breath; a slow, measured inhalation, followed by an equally slow exhalation. There was pain somewhere, but it was so distant he barely noticed it - as of he was looking at someone else in pain and imagining what they must feel.

Dreamily, he supposed he must be lying in his lovers warm bed, Palpatine curled up beside him, asleep. He thought it might be nice if they did nothing today, merely lay here in the darkness.

He reached out to pull the being beside him closer. Be he could feel nothing, no even his own movement. Had he died and therefore become disembodied? But then surely he would have become one with the Force and now, if anything, it was distant. As if he were not swimming in a sea, but floating in a tank, unable to feel the water against his skin.

And then the sun came up, burning through the darkness with a light just as blinding, pinpoints of white pain connecting with every part of his body. And Anakin would have screamed, but there was no sound other than the slow breathing, like that of someone in the deepest of sleeps.

Eyes snapped open and he room was illuminated with a searing clarity that forged a connection with all the pinpoints driving into his head. It was not the poetic spectrum of human vision, but the ugly, dissected world of a droid.

He could see the very dust that littered the air and the layer of cleaning fluid that coated the ceiling, everything in such detail that the beauty of sight was entirely gone.

Recollection drifted ponderously across his mind, images seen vivid colour. He remembered bloody stains and the smoking ruins of the Jedi Temple. He remembered the movement of Palpatine's lips – _Darth Vader. _He remembered the whirl of lightsabers against waves of fire and the agony of burning black sand.

_"Lord Vader, can you hear me?"_

A voice, familiar and yet somehow strange, spoke softly, but Vader could no longer hear it. He was aware of the words and of their exact tone, but he was unable to hear them.

_"Switch it on, you fools!"_ Vader was aware of the same voice ordering impatiently.

There was another wave of white pinpricks and Darth Vader could move. He was aware of his complete body, as the white hot pain shot from his brain, down his spinal cord and out into a body of electrodrivers and smooth durasteel.

_Palpatine… _he tried to whisper, but the sound came out at the wrong volume and in a different voice.

DV-EP-DV-EP-DV

The Emperor stared at the construct before him. He could feel the pain emanating from the seated figure.

"Palpatine…" the deep vocabulator said. To the Emperor the name was accusatory, and this angered him. The glaring light of the surgical reconstruction centre reflected off the black armour that encased his one-time lover.

"You will address me as_ Master_, my apprentice," Palpatine said reprovingly.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

In the days that followed, Darth Vader attempted to come to grips with his new situation. He had been given a suite of rooms and all his old possessions, which were few, had been moved there. For the most part they were things he simply did not want or need anymore.

He ripped them apart and threw them away, his raw tear ducts burning with salty tears; that such simple things could hurt him so much.

Spending his time accustoming himself to his new body, Vader tried not the think about why he was here, the cause of all his suffering.

But like a fly stuck on a spider's web, he could not help but think of the being that had spun the silken cords of his trap.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

_"Oh, dear child, how could you possibly think that I could have ever loved you?"_ Palpatine had said dismissively when Vader had questioned him. _"You are my apprentice, as I wanted you to be."_

Vader had shouted the question he had asked when he had first learnt of Palpatine's true identity.

His Master's eyes flared yellow with unspeakable anger and his thin lips pulled back into a snarl_. "Do_ not _question my humanity, Lord Vader, or you will discover exactly how_ _far it extends!"_

What had once been a flaming passion was now ash and Lord Vader was like a man who realised too late that the only thing that had been keeping him warm had died and he was left clutching a single ember in the darkness, hoping impossibly that it would rekindle.

DV-EP-DV-EP-DV

The tenth anniversary of Empire Day was an event of such splendour that thousands travelled to Imperial Centre to witness the spectacle. The Imperial Palace had finally been completed and the vast Grand Corridor was open to the public, who swarmed in to marvel at the height of the magnificent vaulted ceiling and the beautiful greenish-purple saplings that ran along the sides of the corridor at intervals.

Darth Vader regarded the crowds impassively from an upper gallery. In truth, he always tried to stay away from the capitol for as long as possible – always focused on his next mission, his next objective. He hated it here, hated the simpering courtiers and oppressive atmosphere. And he hated being reminded of –

"His Imperial Majesty!" someone announced, and everyone in the room lowered their heads. Vader did not kneel as he usually did, it was improper in a room full of people. Instead he bowed low as Palpatine approached.

"Lord Vader," the Emperor acknowledged, his sibilant voice the whisper of someone who knows that the beings surrounding him will strive to overhear every word. Darth Vader stared down at the small man.

It was plain to everyone that the ruler of the galaxy was unwell. At seventy, Palpatine was still the hypnotic figure he had always been, but some telling changes had occurred. Most put it down to sheer age, but Vader recognised the truth. The Emperor's immersion in the Dark Side of the Force was exacting its price. His skin was so pale as to be almost white, his hair had mostly fallen out and his small body was so frail that he was forced to walk with the aid of a glossy black cane. But his eyes were unchanged, those heavy blue eyes that so easily turned to yellow at the slightest annoyance.

"I trust you find the celebrations pleasant," the Emperor continued, waving a hand at the swirling multitude below them.

Darth Vader said nothing.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

Palpatine wanted to scream when he returned to his chambers on the uppermost level of the pyramidal Imperial Palace. No ever entered these rooms but the Emperor – not even the Imperial Guard were allowed in past the doors.

Only these rooms were done in the dark reds that had filled his chambers in the past. Perhaps out of nostalgia, they were remarkably similar to the private rooms he had occupied as the Chancellor of the Republic - except his _Study of Fate. _That resided elsewhere, for it only served to remind him of the true irony of events. That he, the greatest manipulator of lives, was still a slave to his own emotions.

There were no thrones in these rooms, only the soft, black couches of the past. The Emperor eased himself into one, banishing his cane to the other side of the room with a flick of his wrist.

He was so very tired. It was that weariness, the weakness of his limbs that made him long for a lover to enfold him – to sooth him and stroke his face in a way that he could never permit.

He was dying, he knew. It was not an illness and it would be years before his life would come to an end, but he knew he was dying. And the sight of his own fraying life strand in his visions terrified him.

Nothing mattered now, nothing except finding a way to stop the decay of his flesh; and perhaps… perhaps some distraction from his mortality? Surely he deserved some respite?

"Send for Lord Vader."

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

**Umm… well. What can I say? Except that there just might be a happy ending – if you're all very good and leave millions of reviews...!**


	17. The Blossom Tree

Chapter Seventeen – _The Blossom Tree _

Author's Note: I was inspired for this chapter by a book called _The Snow Fox, _which deals with a Japanese woman who thinks that she's lost her humanity. I will definitely fall out of correct Star Wars information with my descriptions of the planet Byss. But hey, they'll be _good_ incorrect descriptions! Er… I accidentally put chapter "fifteen" on both the last two chapters. Masquerade was meant to be sixteen. Sorry. This chapter is for Agny – who guessed.

Darkside Doris – Stop shaking the wee Emperor – Desist, I say! It's not his fault he's a cold-hearted bastard! Well… actually…

Vampire Kid Kara – Happy ending…? Chuckles evilly...

Blodeueodd – What he wants? Yes, I believe so, but, he's in denial you see?

Eris – Calm down! Please! He's learning ok? begins shaking, don't hurt me!

Ziggy – Mmm… chocolates? Maybe next time…? Winks obviously

Agny – You guessed it. All bow to the powerful Agny!

LL – Sorry I took a break! But you enjoyed the fic, right? There will be one or two chapters after this.

Grey V – Enjoy, I hope it doesn't hurt that much.

Maelicia – Ah, Maelicia… Maelicia – Forgive me for making you sad and depressed. Unfortunately, this chap isn't much better.

Lady Sidious – Oh, he'll say it. Yes, a happy ending is possible. Watch. Or ask Agny.

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Sue me, please do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

The first thing that occurred to Lord Vader as he entered the Emperor's private apartments was that he had gone back in time. The red carpet and elegant, black couches belonged to another era. He half-expected to see the Chancellor standing by the window, thoughts lost in the passing air-traffic.

But it was the Emperor who sat on one of the black couches, voluminous robes casting his features in shadow. A wave of power rolled across the room and filled Vader with dark warmth, his Master's way of telling him that he was not displeased. The dark lord shuddered, attempting to close the memories that rose, like blood from an old wound unconsciously torn open by its inflictor.

Darth Vader knelt before the Emperor. "What is it you want of me, my Master?" he asked.

Palpatine was silent for a long time and his off-white hands curled and slid against each other as he thought. "I shall tell you a story, Lord Vader," he said eventually. "It will broaden your knowledge of the Order you serve."

_The man's memories of being a child were for the most part unformed, resembling bright colours through a hazy lens. His first clear memory was of the blossom tree. Its white flowers used to shine gold in the afternoon sun and his mother had said they had planted it at his and his brother's birth and that it would grow old just as they did._

_Always, in his first few years, he would wait with excitement until the tree would blossom, sitting under it for hours on end, staring up intently, waiting to see of any of the buds had opened. But, in his fourth year, just as the blossoms were maturing, there was a terrible rainstorm._

_In the morning, the boys ran out to check their tree. Its roots had been upturned and rose out of the sodden ground like a great, brown claw. The blossoms he had waited for so long were scattered in the long grass unopened, muddy and broken. _

_His brother cried and ran back inside, but he just sank into the mud and stared at the tree, wondering how such a tree could possibly fall. The boy asked his mother if they too would die, because the tree had. "Stop being silly," she snapped, tired of his ridiculous questions, "everything dies in its own time." _

_So then, when the boy saw a beautiful flower or a bird he became sad, because he knew that they would die too. He mourned things while they were still alive. When he looked at something new and bright, he saw it as old and decayed. And surely, if everything was already dead, then why should he care for anything at all?_

_That was the man's last memory before everything became dark. His brother and he were taken to be trained in the ways of the Sith. It was a slow, painful process, which bled the humanity from both twins. Their Master always said that they were really one apprentice, broken in half. There was Darth Ferox: strong, fierce and passionate, then the smaller one, Darth Sidious who was intelligent, manipulative and visionary; and both of them born with a powerful Force talent. _

_But through all this, they remained true to each other, tied together in the Force as surely as if they had been attached at the hip. The two apprentices knew that together, the galaxy was a fruit they could split open and savour as the juices ran down their eager lips. _

_It was Sidious who worked it out first. When their Master declared that there was but one task left to complete, he knew what it would be. He looked into his brothers eyes, so much like his own, and knew what Plagueis would say._

_He saw his brother's pale blue eyes fill with sadness as they ignited their lightsabers. In physical combat, Sidious knew that he had the disadvantage. They fought for a long time, red blades hissing under the fervent yellow gaze of their Master. _

_But Darth Sidious's fear of losing his brother was so great that he had seen his death for months, playing out in his head, plaguing his imagination and preying on his waking life. By the time of the trail Sidious saw his breathing twin as already dead. If everyone is already dead, then there is no such thing as murder. _

_Sidious won the duel, discovering that will is more important than strength. But as soon as the lightsaber connected with his brothers neck, his hand slipped, leaving the weapon in Ferox's body, the smell of burning flesh twisting up from the floor._

_It was like being connected to another ship and having that ship unexpectedly torn away, leaving him open to the freezing, airless void of space. A large hand clamped down on his shoulder. _

"_You have learnt the final lesson of the Sith, Darth Sidious," Plagueis rasped "I expected it would be you. Your brother-" he glanced down at the mangled body on the floor, "-always lacked a certain something."_

_Sidious knelt before Plagueis, begging his Master to bring his brother back, as he knew his Master could, but Darth Plagueis only laughed. "You have grown beyond him, apprentice. This is the final lesson and it is that a Sith Lord is always alone. Treachery is the way of the Sith. Trust no one, and you will never be betrayed. Now rise: **Lord** Sidious."_

The two Sith Lords stared at one another. "Perhaps this will give you some insight into our Order, my apprentice," said the Emperor calmly, as if the boy in the story was simply a character out of a piece of antiquated mythology.

"I – yes, Master." Vader replied, unsure of the correct response.

"We sacrifice everything for power –do you understand? _Everything_…" Palpatine's voice trailed off; as if he was contemplating the sacrifice he had made long ago and his yellow eyes trailed across the cityscape.

"But, surely Master, the choice was made for you, by _your _Master?"

The Emperor looked carefully at his apprentice, like a long-suffering teacher regarding a particularly backward pupil. "When we are young," he said firmly, "our Masters judge what they deem good for us."

Palpatine stood and moved slowly towards the window, as if enraptured by the glow of the setting sun on Imperial Centre. Darth Vader followed: a tall shadow behind his Master. "We are above all beings," the Emperor said, waving a hand at the crowds who still continued to celebrate, far below. "For we alone understand the true nature of the universe. Our pain only fuels our power and thus we forge weakness into strength."

_Is this some sort of apology? _Vader wondered. _Is he truly trying to justify himself?_

If it was indeed an apology, then it was not an obvious one. As they gazed out at the view of the cityscape, Darth Vader waited for the words. _You see now why I had to do it?_ Or, _I had no choice, my apprentice, I did what was necessary, _or even, _I am sorry Lord Vader, but you must see my position?_

But the Emperor was silent.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Sate Pestage shook his head as he entered Darth Vader's audience chamber in the immense castle the dark lord had made of the Jedi Temple. It was sparse, utilitarian and totally lacking in the taste with which, Pestage had always considered, the Emperor decorated his own chambers. But then, the Grand Vizier supposed, at heart Lord Vader would always be that careless young man who had been taught that possessions where an extravagance.

The Sith Lord was waiting for him, his black armour a silhouette against the bright Coruscant sunlight. _Ah, Palpatine must have been truly afraid of this boy's effect on him, to imprison him so. _The Grand Vizier cast his mind back to the handsome, passionate youth who had stridden into the Supreme Chancellor's ordered apartments one day and nearly shattered the ice sculpture that Palpatine had moulded around his heart. Pestage had been jealous of the attractive Anakin Skywalker, but now he knew that the object of the Emperor's affections was not to be envied and although it could never be said that Sate Pestage was an empathetic man – Darth Vader's unfortunate fate stirred faint pity in the heart of the Grand Vizier.

"The Emperor requests your presence, Lord Vader." Pestage said formally.

"Surely there are less time-consuming ways of alerting me to the fact," the dark lord rumbled, still not looking at the Grand Vizier. _He despises me, _Pestage thought.

"The nature of His Majesty's summons is highly confidential. Official channels would excite interest in certain parties. You will return with me to the Palace."

The Sith Lord nodded slowly, continuing to affect not to notice Pestage. Finally he turned to face the Grand Vizier. "How is…?" he said started to ask.

"Very poor, I'm afraid, Lord Vader, very poor indeed."

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

The Emperor was seated in one of his more private audience chambers, waiting. He sat very still, small hands resting on the arms of his large obsidian throne. His sickly yellow eyes were half closed, mind buried in the depths of the Force.

Distantly, he felt the entrance of his apprentice and the faint presence of his Grand Vizier. "Lord Vader." Pestage announced, before slipping away.

His apprentice drew closer until he came to kneel at the feet of the Emperor, close enough for the sovereign to touch the polished black helmet that shone in the light of the high windows behind the throne.

"I am journeying off-world, apprentice, and I wish you to accompany me." Palpatine said; a small smile on his withered lips.

Vader's surprise was a small dissonance in the Force, but his mechanised breath was the only audible sound in the room.

"We will travel on my private shuttle and all arrangements are prepared." It was an effort for him to stand, his weak limbs preventing his rise. A black gauntleted hand extended itself. The Emperor accepted the assistance wordlessly and for a moment they stood there, almost embraced, in a parody of what might have been. Neither moved, unwilling to break the illusion of closeness. Finally, his apprentice bowed and stepped away, out of the shafts of sunlight that struck the platform in front of the throne. A conscious device, the sunlight was intended blind the being who knelt there, making the seated Emperor the only optical solace from brilliant light. It also tended to make people uncomfortable.

Palpatine summoned his cane and affected not to notice the disappointment he had almost felt. He closed his eyes to the tortured voices that screamed from the dungeons of his mind, and made his way across the room, the dark lord falling in behind him.

"We depart immediately, Lord Vader," the Emperor snapped irritably.

DV-EP-DV-EP-DV

Darth Vader was not sure where they were going, as hyperspace co-ordinates had been preset, but of one thing he was certain. The Emperor's death was approaching. It was apparent in every gesture his Master made and the dark lord was not sure about his reaction to this.

When the Emperor died _he_ was the clear successor. Finally, he would be able to implement the reforms that were so badly needed in the Empire. Justice, a term that had become convoluted in the Emperor's mouth, would finally be allowed to flourish. Yes, he could say that his rule would be good for the majority of beings in the Empire, something that could not be said for certain others who had aspirations to the galactic throne.

But – _did he want it? _To be stuck on Imperial Centre – to, in effect,_ be_ Imperial Centre, forever surrounded and enclosed by complicated intrigues and suffocating courtiers, it made Vader sick to think of it. He did not have the Emperor's gift of vision or Palpatine's intellectual brilliance to help him; neither did he enjoy the game of politics.

And, on a personal level, there was a large part of his soul that would regret the Emperor's passing. In many ways he felt he was still intimately connected with that small body, those soft hands and that rough-silk baritone. The only person he had ever truly loved. He didn't understand how Palpatine could do such things, turn emotions on and off with a blink of his heavy-lidded eyes.

The Sith Lord gazed out of the widows of the Emperor's _lambda _shuttle, so different from his expansive _Executor_. However, you couldn't beat a ship like this for effective cloaking and manoeuvrability for its class. Vader shook his head and smiled at what he'd just thought. _Effective cloaking and manoeuvrability – _perhaps the ship reflects the personality of its owner.

How easy it was for his thoughts to be sidetracked into something he understood, something easy. He felt slightly out of control at the moment, wanting something to do. Anakin Skywalker would have happily intruded on the pilots and chatted carelessly about flying, but Darth Vader did not have that option. The gift of charm had disappeared along with his body.

So he stood, thinking about things that he had avoided thinking about for a long time. There was a shuddering as the ship excited hyperspace. A misty green world was suspended before him. There was, however, a dark patch in the northern area of the planet that Vader suspected they were heading.

They flew over a glittering black city with intricate spires and yet leafy gardens were apparent on the shimmering black terraces that made the city seem like a beautiful dark garden more than a cosmopolis.

The shuttle landed on a wide platform that appeared to be an aerial entrance to the tallest spire and as the ramp lowered Vader saw a row of six scarlet Imperial Sovereign Protectors waiting for them to disembark.

The Emperor made his way slowly down the ramp, leaning heavily on his cane. A fair-headed man the dark lord didn't recognise, in the robes of a Sith Adept, came forward to kneel before Palpatine.

"Is everything prepared?" the Emperor asked, indicating with a wave of his hand that the man could rise.

"Everything is in readiness, Your Majesty. You have only to complete the procedure."

Palpatine gave a slight chuckle, "Excellent, adept." He turned to Darth Vader, "Follow me, my friend."

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

The Emperor lay, submerged in soft, black sheets yellow eyes staring up at the ceiling. He could no longer summon the energy to rise from the comfortable bed, knowing that to use the Force would merely cause the pain to worsen.

He felt as if tendrils of dark power were working in and out of his skin, leaching his strength. The focus in his eyes had become hazy and his hearing dulled.

A dark presence entered the room.

'_You came here to die – didn't you?' _

'_Yes,' _Palpatine answered wordlessly, for he could no longer speak, eyes watching the pattern of light caused by the dim lights of the windowless room.

'_Why didn't you tell me?'_

'_It was impossible; I couldn't even acknowledge it myself for the most part.'_

'_What shall I do?'_

'_Oh, I'm sure you'll know what to do when the time comes.'_

'_I have always loved you.'_

'_I know.'_

'_Did you ever love me?'_

And it seemed so natural to tell the truth, such a simple matter, that there was no hesitation.

'_Oh yes, I loved you, my beautiful child.'_

Palpatine felt the touch of a large glove stroking the side of his face as his spirit passed out of his body and watched as Darth Vader, like some knight from a youngling tale, knelt beside the bed, pulled off his helmet and cast it aside, leaving his scarred face open to the air and bent across to kiss the still lips of the Emperor.

There was final stillness in the room as the two Sith Lords lay together, the black cape of the apprentice half covering figure of the master like some funeral shroud.

'_That's all I ever wanted to know.' _


	18. Ripening

Chapter Eighteen – _Ripening_

Author's Note: Small chapter, more like the conclusion to the last one than a separate segment. I'd already half written this when I posted _The Blossom Tree_. It just didn't seem right to put this in that – it would ruin the feel of it. Alright, Palpatine and Anakin get new bodies. I have always hated how the Emperor in _Dark Empire_ was blond with a crew-cut. Urgh! So I have imagined him as a young version of Ian McDiarmid - much nicer… Mm! Remember, I have a nasty habit of turning happy/romantic endings on their heads at the start of the next chapter. So shall it be here! I hope there are still some surprises for those of you who think they know my mind. I'll answer reviews for both chapters in the next one, since this is so small.

One amusing aside – does anybody know a Garth Vader? Quite a funny typo if you ask me…!

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Sue me, please do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

_**Follow.**_

_Why?_

_**Stay.**_

_Why?_

_**Stay with me – us – together.**_

_How?_

_**Follow.**_

_Yes._

AS-EP-AS-EP-AS

Water slipped away, spilling, flowing, and draining around him. Darth Vader could feel the sensation of slime against his skin. There was no pain. He tried to move and was shocked to find wholeness.

His body was whole and he could feel wet hair lying on his neck. Suddenly more liquid coursed down him, but it only served to awaken the sense of touch as it ran down his arms, his legs, his groin and feet. This was followed by heat and the wetness on his skin evaporated, leaving him shivering and breathless. He drew air up through his lungs and felt it tickle his nose. He ran his hands over his skin – as much as he could touch – and felt the smooth, hard flesh of Anakin Skywalker in his prime.

He opened his eyes and saw his reflection in the glassy cylinder that enclosed him.

Complete.

But then the glass shifted and he blinked as he fell forward onto the smooth floor. Instead of getting up, he slid against it, in an orgy of sensation.

And then he touched skin.

It was pale, soft, naked, lying beside him on the floor.

And then he saw the face.

Clear, pale blue eyes, a high forehead, small pink lips, a slight indent in the chin, a large nose, high cheek-bones, heavy eyelids and delicate eyelashes, all framed by luxurious, curling, ginger hair.

And then he remembered.

"You… _you lied!"_ and his voice sounded odd to his own ears, alive and raw with emotion. He stared at the small, naked body, the reddish chest hair and the tightly curling ginger that surrounded his Master's navel.

"About what, Lord Vader?" and that voice seemed so controlled, so calm in the face of miracles that the dark lord could hardly believe he was having this discussion.

"You said – you didn't say – I… I thought…!"

Palpatine chuckled, "I'm afraid it was necessary, my friend. You see, I conducted several tests and it appeared that the process works better when one submits to it willingly."

"-And you, you _knew _I'd kill myself? You actually _factored it in!"_

"You've always been a romantic, Lord Vader."

He launched himself at Palpatine, all thoughts of Force, Empire and Master forgotten. In was a primitive impulse brought on by confusion and rage. It was anger at being _toyed with_, manipulated until it seemed impossible that anything he did wasn't already worked out and dealt with.

The reborn Emperor gave a small yelp as his much heavier apprentice landed on him, knocking the air out of his lungs. Still disorientated from the transfer, he knew that he should not draw on the Force just yet, or his sheer power might rip his still adjusting clone body apart. Palpatine attempted to twist his slender form out from under Vader's weight.

"So you _lied!" _Vader screamed._ "_You lied_ again!_ _WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH! _Why bother pretending that you _ever _cared about me!"

Palpatine stilled and laid there, pale eyes considering Vader through his ginger lashes. Aristocratic fingers reached up to caress the anguished face above him.

"Truth?" he said softly. "You ask me for truth? I have already given it to you."

"But – you said…?" The dark lord's deep blue eyes widened.

"My only lie was one of omission. I… admitted the truth of the matter." Palpatine turned his head away, leaving Vader with his profile.

"Then you… _how could you…? _You deserted me when I needed you most, you actively _shunned_ me…!"

Palpatine's lips tightened and his face grew stony. "You imagine that did not cause me pain; that I did not chafe at the measures I forced myself to take? You assume that you are the only one who has been hurt by this?"

This filled Vader with indignation. "Don't project your own feelings onto me!" he snapped. "I never hurt you – _ever!_ Yet you always seem to take pleasure in deliberately wounding _me_ - _why!"_

"I… I have…" Palpatine began, but the answer wouldn't come. The golden lie that would reassure his apprentice, it stuck in his throat, the words unformed. And suddenly he was frightened by the sheer emotion that was pouring out of – _Anakin's?_ – fierce eyes.

And then something seemed to snap inside him, a great tightness in his gut was released, as if something had been slammed into him and shattered his equilibrium. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears began to leak from them, as the glacier of years began to melt into the sea of emotion.

It was impossible to halt and the harder he tried the faster the tears spilled down his pale cheeks. There was an anguished noise from what seemed like far above him and then the cessation of touch as a warm body pulled away.

Footsteps echoed on the sterilised floor of the clone laboratory and there was the murmur of whispers and then the silence of retreat.

Finally there was an end to the tears, and Palpatine stood up, his face etched with terrible anger, naked in the clinical darkness of the lab, rows exact likenesses staring lifelessly ahead, almost appearing to watch the form of their living twin.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Darth Vader dressed himself. A single sentence, four words, yet they meant so much to him. Clothes had been prepared - doubtless the Emperor had foreseen the need. They were much like the Jedi robes he had worn, but in black, but he was amazed by the simple action of inserting his arm through the sleeve. He wore no gloves.

He desperately needed an outlet for the conflicting emotions that battled n his mind. The dark lord glanced towards the door of his private rooms. A beam of red energy ignited and Lord Vader moved towards his previous chambers which held all the complicated equipment that had been necessary for his survival. Generous lips curved into a grim smile.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

The Emperor was furious. _How dare he leave me? How **dare** he! _The sentence kept winding round and round in his head. In his private suite, Palpatine gazed into the mirror.

Always too small and his youth only making it more obvious, too pale, hardly any lips worth speaking of, and an overlarge nose. Yet some had found him attractive in his youth, before he substituted beauty for power. The mirror cracked with a wave of his hand.

It was intolerable, that when he had achieved everything one dreams of – youth, power and immortality – he was denied this simple thing. He would make Vader rue this day. His apprentice would plead forgiveness from him - beg for his touch, before the Emperor was through with him. _Beg for it._

He walked over to his wardrobe and ran his pale hands over the expensive materials. He cast aside all the black-cowled robes, Force-hurling them across the room. Finally, his fingers touched russet velvet and stopped. Then he opened a case that contained a small bottle of perfume. A native to Naboo, yet incredibly rare, he had once heard someone describe it as "An olfactory intoxication that blossoms into something that could only be described as the heady scent of power." It was made from an interesting little flower the stimulated certain areas of the brain.

Yes, he was no novice in the game of deliberate seduction.

DV-DS-DV-DS-DV

Lord Vader stood in the middle of a smoking ruin of a room, deactivated lightsaber in his right hand. A slight cough alerted him to the presence by the doorway.

Clothed in a russet velvet robes and an inky purple, shimmersilk over-cloak, heavy-eyelids lowered seductively and the index finger of one hand idly stroking his thin lips, Palpatine watched Vader, amusement in his half-closed, blue eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" the Emperor inquired politely.

The dark lord said nothing, merely stared. The Emperor nimbly picked his way over the singed debris, clearly relishing his new-found agility. The dark lord knelt before his Master. _What was that smell? It was like breathing in the rush of murder. _

The Dark Side rolled off his Master in thick waves, making the apprentice's breath quicken and his sweaty hands clench. This was a deliberate effort on the Emperor's part, and Vader would not yield. _He would not_.

It was amusing that the Sith Lord had expected rage from his Master. He had expected the agony of Force-lightning from hands rigid with hatred. _Not this, anything but this…_ But Palpatine had set out to punish him by far more subtle means of torture, by making him want something he knew he could never have. _Palpatine could smile, stroke, laugh and cry rivers of tears and all of it would mean nothing. Not a word he said was without some deeper game, lies so convincing you could build your life on them. He was a cold-blooded creature who had learnt to mimic human emotions in order to get what he wanted, but he no more knew what they meant than a fish knew of fire. _

"I'm afraid we cannot remain on Byss any longer," Palpatine said, his voice once again the silken baritone of the Supreme Chancellor."I must return to Imperial Centre – or doubtless some underling will get it into his head to attempt a _coup d'etat_, which would result in much unpleasantness on my eventual arrival."

"Yes, Master." Vader gritted his teeth.

EP-DV-EP-DV-EP

If someone had said to Lord Vader on the journey to Byss that the return voyage would be even more gruelling than the first, he would not have believed them. If someone had told him that he would have the body of Anakin Skywalker returned to him – he would have laughed in their face, believing that nothing could detract from the pleasure of once again truly experiencing life.

Unfortunately, what he was discovering was that emotions and desires were resurfacing that he had not dealt with for years. But he would not give the Emperor the satisfaction of knowing that he continued to desire the sovereign, would not once again fling his heart into that abyss and belatedly realise that the darkness stretched on forever, with no spark of humanity to kindle a flame.

He attempted to close down all his emotions, to protect himself from the hurt he knew would come, not realising as he did so that he was making a mistake that another Sith Apprentice had made not so very long ago.

DV-EP-DV-EP-DV

**Please review and tell me what you think, I'm so nervous as to whether Palpatine went too badly OOC and whether their emotions were realistic, because this is the point from whence I really start messing with their IC feelings. **


	19. The Problem with Anakin Skywalker

Chapter Nineteen – _The Problem with Anakin Skywalker_

Author's Note: OK – So I have finally re-vamped the horrible chapter that everyone complained about. A year later… OMG… This was the way it was always intended to play out and the reason it was abbreviated was that I was under pressure at home and wanted to bring the story quickly to a close. Mara is still there though. Sorry.

Disclaimer: Own this, I do not. Sue me, please do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

DS-EP-DS-EP-DS

Empire Day was the anniversary of the day Commander Anakin Skywalker had been officially declared dead. The manner of his death was not specified, nor was it announced to the general public. They assumed the fearless hero had perished with all the other Jedi Knights.

And, from a certain point of view, he had.

All his possessions had been bequeathed to his lover, Palpatine of Naboo. Who had, of course, promptly gifted them all to the Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord Vader, who had appeared from nowhere a few months after the destruction of the Jedi Order.

It was not surprising that no one had connected the enigmatic Sith Lord with the handsome hero of the late Republic. They presented entirely different fronts to the world and the Emperor liked it that way: that there should be no association with times past.

Now, however, an entirely different situation presented itself. And even Palpatine was not so insensitive as to request that his apprentice continue to dress in his previous style in order to preserve appearances.

The fact that it had been heavily publicised that the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic was involved with a Jedi young enough to be his grandson, and that the young Knight in question was instantly recognisable to anyone who'd even turned on the Holo-Net at the time of the Clone Wars, put both Emperor and dark lord in an interesting position. That is, it raised definite interest in why Lord Vader was given power in the first place.

Really, what everyone would want to know was: _Did he sleep his way to the high command? _

And this, despite the many examples of how fine a commander, how good a tactician, and how gifted a pilot the Sith Lord was, would raise resentment amongst a certain type of being - usually the more talented and influential kind.

But only the Emperor had considered all this as yet. In his quiet chambers on his private shuttle, Palpatine contemplated the new situation. Or, more precisely, he contemplated what advantages could be gained by it. The Emperor firmly believed that every event in the chain of life could be manipulated to his advantage.

Sinking deep into the Force, Palpatine let his thoughts follow the pulsing strands of life that twisted and intersected through the dimensions of possibility. He watched as the lines divided and split, forming new structures in the vast construct of life. The Emperor wrapped his mind around a particularly complicated line, which had recently reached a significant point of division.

Resentment, anger and fear drove it to continue on its path, while love, longing and understanding would cause it to connect with another strand. Another moment of division had not yet arrived, but he could feel many in the opaqueness of the future. The closest strand was no longer fading, it was the epicentre of a large structure, a very obvious line, unencumbered by unsureness of form, yet it wove into the most intricate of patterns.

Palpatine's mind touched a host of possibilities, flicking through them in much the same way that a child considers which forbidden sweetmeat to devour first. Finally, he settled on the future he wanted, viewing the sequence of events that would have to be achieved before the desired outcome could be realised.

Such a deep connection to the Force, a direct channelling of Dark energies, could not be attempted by anyone without the necessary strength of mind. Let others keep their ridiculous physical prowess – the Emperor had found an easier way to achieve what he wanted. All his life, this was the power he had concentrated on. While Maul, Vader and any number of Jedi wasted their time training as warriors, Sidious had honed his connection to the Dark Side of the Force, so that now he was little more than a channel through which the untold powers of the Force could be unleashed.

Of course, such power was not without cost. His mortal form could hardly sustain the magnitude of power which passed through it for any length of time – he shortened his life considerably by the use of such unnatural powers of foresight. However, now that the cost had been neatly eliminated, Palpatine was free to indulge in all the prescience he wanted.

Sleepy lids opened slowly, revealing jaundiced eyes that blazed for a moment then flickered with a blink into the clear blue of a freezing winter's day.

DV-AS-DV-AS-DV

Darth Vader looked at the clothes laid out on the bed. A sharp tunic of a fine grey material worn with, what by now seemed the almost compulsory, black boots and cape. He wondered vaguely if he had _ever_ worn a bright colour in his life. First the sandy shades of Tantooine, then the Jedi brown and black, graduating to the Sith variant which was grey and black. He'd never thought about it before, but suddenly it hurt that another part of his life had been taken away and he'd never even noticed.

It was strange now, once again being expected to change his clothes every day. It was nice in a loose, airy way, the freedom afforded by the warm, soft material against his skin. Perhaps he wouldn't be recognised?

But Anakin Skywalker had never been one to blend in.

BO-BO-BO-BO-BO

BO-BO-BO-BO-BO

Bail Organa, Senator and Viceroy of Alderaan, hated these gatherings. They were the hypocritical highlight of his social calendar. Everyone had underhand motives – even him, these days. The atmosphere of the Imperial Court must surely be one of the most poisonous in the galaxy. But then, everything came from the top – and Palpatine was the most perfect liar Bail had ever had the misfortune to meet.

Just then, Senator Organa saw something that stopped his polished shoes in their tracks.

A very tall young man, with tanned skin, a mop of wavy dark blond hair, deep blue eyes, and dressed in a grey and black tunic reminiscent of Jedi robes, stood by the window. If Bail had not already had to nerve himself up for this event, his jaw would be hanging loose.

_Anakin Skywalker?_

A famed Jedi Knight, extraordinary pilot, brilliant commander, the one-time lover of the Emperor and, more importantly, _a man who shouldn't exist. _

As Bail approached he noticed that not only did the man appear to be Anakin Skywalker, he looked not a day older than twenty. Forget pleasantries, forget small talk – the Senator would get to the bottom of this directly.

"Are you who I think you are, sir?" he asked.

Dark blue eyes looked down at him, narrowed suspiciously. "Who exactly are you taking me for, Senator?" he replied, answering question for question.

"… Anakin Skywalker – perhaps you've heard of him?"

"Not for a while," said the fair-haired man, still giving nothing away.

Bail Organa decided to push for a reaction. "Did you know that he used to be His Majesty's lover?"

"Yes, I did," said the man through clenched teeth. "It was all over the holo-press at one time." He folded his arms and continued to glare at Bail.

The man's reactions were too characteristic of Lord Vader for Bail to resist pushing the button ever further. "So it _was_…" he agreed, assuming a nostalgic tone, "one almost envied the Supreme Chancellor – getting such an _attractive_ toy boy."

The young man's face flushed a deep shade of scarlet, hatred in his angry blue gaze. He turned contemptuously away and disappeared into the press of beings.

_Gone away to sulk_, Bail thought. _But this is definitely development that would interest certain friends of mine. _

DV-AS-DV-AS-DV

Darth Vader was furious. Impudent courtiers had either pestered him about being a Jedi or given him significant looks that asked if he was still Palpatine's – _What was the word Organa had used?_ Or if they hadn't known him, certain signals had made him aware of the fact that both male and female parties wouldn't be averse to _getting_ to know him.

He couldn't _wait_ for them to realise that he was Darth Vader.

_Was it too much to ask that he be left alone? _

Just then, a man entered the room and conversation died away.

Dressed in layered robes of deep purple and black silk, his thin, pink lips pressed into a somewhat sinister smile, blue eyes glittering with amusement, the Emperor made his way into the room; looking for all the galaxy like the proverbial crocodile.

"My _dear_ friends," his said charmingly, "I am so _pleased_ to see that so many of you have come to my little gathering." he raised a hand to indicate the huge room filled of important beings.

"I see that some of you are shocked. Well, I am sorry that I have caused you the distress of having to rethink your undoubtedly ambitious plans for the future..." He chuckled and paused for the laugh, which in certain throats, sounded rather forced.

"I'm afraid I must disappoint some of you by saying that the procedure is a state secret and will not be available to the public."

There were groans of disappointment.

"But be assured that I, your Sovereign, will continue to fulfil my duty to guide our grand and magnificent Empire to its even more glorious future!"

There were cheers and someone yelled out "_Long live the Emperor!"_ which was taken up by the crowd, some raising their glasses of horrendously expensive wine. Palpatine inclined his head and smiled self-deprecatingly.

"One other matter, my friends, before I allow you to continue enjoying yourselves…" Palpatine said, causing Vader to just catch himself in a nervous swallow. Palpatine seemed to go on and on, praising the efficiency of Lord Vader and reiterating his importance to the Empire, then going on to refer to the tragedy of his "accident," about which, Vader was thankful, the Emperor had not specified, finally ending on how "It had been a matter of _need_ rather than favour…"

'_Now come stand beside me, my boy, and get rid of that murderous expression.'_

Vader ground his teeth – _he was supposed to look **happy** being paraded like some pet taagcat? _

'_This is no time for immaturity, Lord Vader!'_

The Sith Lord obeyed and tried to avoid the crowd of staring eyes by gazing over the tops of their heads, out into the middle distance. Beside him, Palpatine smiled cryptically, his pale eyes giving away nothing of the thoughts behind them.

Then the Emperor stepped away, moving through his guests like the consummate politician he was, smiling charmingly and effectively hypnotising anyone who saw him. The older courtiers looked at each other knowingly, remembering the Supreme Chancellor who had fooled that galaxy with that smile, while the younger ones simply stared, astonished that their aged Emperor had ever been this young.

Glad that Palpatine had taken the spotlight once more, Vader strode out of the room, not caring if it caused comment. He'd always hated that atmosphere, even as Anakin Skywalker.

"_Ah, Anakin." said a cultured voice behind him. Anakin whipped round, there was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, smiling indulgently as the Padawan straightened up and bowed awkwardly._

_Palpatine waved a pale hand dismissively. "Don't bother, Anakin," he said. "I get quite enough of that already. Let's not have so much ceremony between ourselves. I've been looking forward to talking to you for a while now."_

_Anakin was shocked. Palpatine had been looking forward to meeting him? "I'm honoured, Chancellor." he said meaningfully. _

_He found himself liking this dignified yet friendly older man, and began to tell the Chancellor about his mission and life in the temple. Even though there were many beings who obviously wanted to talk to him, Palpatine listened to Anakin attentively and seemed to perfectly understand Anakin's perspective in a way that Obi-Wan never did…_

Lord Vader's fists clenched and he stopped, standing in a deserted corridor. He had adored Palpatine's praise, drank in the Chancellor's understanding smile, and grew to love those wise, milky blue eyes. Anakin had been so anxious to please, so determined to impress and had not once questioned the motives of that seemingly ideal confidant.

Yes, Vader understood better that anyone how the Emperor could charm people, how seamless his façade could be.

"_I think your hands are beautiful," said Anakin, before he could stop himself. He gently took hold of them with his own large ones._

"_Sith are as varied as the cosmos," the Chancellor explained as Anakin pulled him closer, "but they are all Sith."_

The Sith Lord shuddered and looked out the transparisteel window that ran along the right side of the corridor, out into the twinkling night of Imperial Centre.

"I believe I told you to remain?" the Emperor said, startling him slightly. Vader had forgotten just how easily Palpatine could completely dissipate his presence in the Force.

"I… could not," said Vader stiffly.

"I would have thought you'd respect my orders a little more, Lord Vader." Palpatine's eyes were diamond-hard slits and his mouth was little more than a line, he ran a pale finger across it and the corners lifted slightly, making the dark lord apprehensive.

MJ-EH-MJ-EH-MJ

Mara Jade had a complicated relationship with the Emperor. A lovely young woman who had been brought to the Imperial Palace as a small orphaned child, she had always thought of the galactic sovereign as a father figure. He was always there for her, had guided her training in the Force, listened to her irrelevant, girlish woes and brought her up to be one of the Empire's deadliest assassins. He was someone she looked up to (well, not in the literal sense, she was almost as tall as him, now!), someone she admired and wanted to please.

When Palpatine asked her to serve as his Hand, it was the proudest moment of Mara's young life. To thwart his enemies, to travel all over the galaxy in his service and yet still have that close connection with him that only she, a powerful telepath, could have. It was more than an honour – it was a pleasure.

Mara pressed the up button on the lift and stamped her foot while the computer checked her identification. As the lift rose, Mara examined her reflection in the metallic surface of the lift wall. She smoothed back her red hair and wiped her face a little with his hands. It never hurt to look good.

The lift door hissed open and Mara calmly made her way to the Emperor's private audience chamber, a more intimate venue than the main, auditorium-like Throne Room. Others would fear to enter this room, but it brought Mara only joy to be in the presence of the Emperor, who –

"My dear, came and look at this. Remarkable, isn't it?"

She guessed he was referring to the amazing holographic model of the galaxy he was standing next to, lips parted proprietarily. But Mara had eyes only for her Master.

Smooth, creamy-white skin, luminous blue eyes, ginger hair that curled around his collar and dressed in soft, black robes that now seemed to flatter his lithe figure rather than obscure it, Mara could only goggle at the Emperor's transformation.

But although his appearance was youthful, he still had that undefinable air of majesty that came with great maturity and his icy blue eyes were still the eyes of age. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"How did you –?" Mara began.

The Emperor raised a pale finger to his lips, before turning his gaze back to the map.

_Wow,_ thought Mara, _did he have extensive surgery or what?_

Palpatine had just opened his mouth to speak when the door slid open and a dark blond youth, perhaps a little older than Mara, stalked up the steps to stand on the other side of the holographic galaxy, viewing Emperor and Hand through a veil of star systems.

"Master," he bowed, acknowledging Palpatine. The youth's smoky blue eyes raked Mara up and down contemptuously, and she felt the barely concealed animosity that radiated from him. She glared at him coldly and moved a little closer to the Emperor.

_See, I'm more important to him than you…_

AS-DV-AS-DV-AS

Darth Vader struggled to conceal his aggression. Standing on the opposite side of the shimmering map of the galaxy was Palpatine with a scantily-clad girl young enough to be his granddaughter. No, forget that – _he _was the right age to be the Emperor's grandson – _she_ was young enough to be his great-great-granddaughter.

Long red hair – _red has always been his favourite colour_ - and limpid green eyes, slightly freckled skin, with an eminently desirable hourglass figure; she was beautiful. The dark lord _deeply_ wanted to wipe that cold little smile off her face and teach her what it meant to –

- _meant to what exactly? _He, a Dark Lord of the Sith would _not_ be jealous of a little snip of a girl. _He would not. _

Palpatine put a possessive hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'd like to introduce you to Mara Jade, apprentice, she's one of my best field operatives."

Darth Vader heard himself give a polite reply, as he stared at that delicate white hand against the Jade girl's skin. A hand he had memories of intimately caressing, of trailing over with his tongue and gripping with his lips, a hand that had stroked him lovingly and brought him so much heated pleasure… That touch was a desecration, the thought of those small, talented hands, running over another's body was sickening. _And_ _how is she off the field, Master?_ He wanted to ask spitefully, but he tried to keep his words aloof and his face dignified.

"Oh, she's _quite_ talented, aren't you Mara?" Palpatine said, making Lord Vader almost flinch.

EP-DS-EP-DS-EP

The Emperor watched as his two companions regarded each other with barely concealed hatred. He resisted the impulse to laugh at their antics. Mara sensed another Hand: the girl couldn't _bear_ the thought of sharing her special position with anyone.

…And neither could Lord Vader, it seemed. Palpatine allowed himself a small smirk as he removed his hand from Mara's shoulder. _His apprentice would be made to regret his actions…_

"Petavite System," the Emperor said clearly, making the map zoom in on a gently revolving binary system, "…an obscure sector, not worthy of more than the most trivial outpost, under ordinary circumstances." Lord Vader and Mara Jade stared at the map, both focusing on anything rather than each other.

"Recently," the Emperor continued, "there have been reports of strange phenomena on Petva V, all of which are almost definitely Force-related. I have meditated on it and found certain… _inconsistencies_ which suggest the presence of either a Force-user or an artefact so powerful as to be almost sentient. I want you two to investigate the matter together."

"Are you certain, Master?" came Vader's response, "The girl will do little but hinder my investigations."

Palpatine turned to face his apprentice, feeling Mara's hiss of indignation, "Are you questioning my decision, apprentice?" he asked frigidly.

"No, Master," was Vader's practised reply.

BO-OK-MY-OK-BO-MY

Three holographic figures regarded each other through the vastness of space, poor quality images flickering with interference.

"_Certain of what you saw, are you?"_

"_As plain as day, Master Jedi, it would be hard to mistake such a striking individual."_

"_Then if such a method has been discovered, the Master would surely use it on himself first…"_

"_I suspect so, although, to my eyes, he looks no different."_

"_Do not underestimate the powers of the Emperor."_

"_Surely you must see now, why we must act?"_

"_We believe in the will of the Force, Senator. We were content to wait for the passing of the Master, but now I see that that could be millennia in coming."_

"_You must help me – the Jedi are our only hope!" _

"_We are few and scattered… but we will do out duty."_

DS-EP-DS-EP-DS

The Emperor's vision spanned the realms of possibility, centring on Petva V. He felt a Jedi presence there, but considered it nothing that his students were incapable of handing, especially since Lord Vader's rejuvenation. He leaned back in his throne and settled himself comfortably. If his apprentice was not up to taking care of whatever was on Petva V, then he could easily interfere through Mara Jade.

Palpatine was _entirely_ confident of success.

WH-AT-WI-LL-HA-PP-EN

**So… THE RETURN OF THE JEDI? Or something less cheesy? Send your thoughts to – "Submit Review," in the small box just below this bold lettering! **


	20. The Final Act

**A Room with a View**

**Chapter Twenty – _The Final Act_**

**Author's Note:** This, I am both sorry and glad to admit – is the final chapter of my story. I hope it will be better that all the other chapters put together and I sincerely thank all my brilliant reviewers who gave me alternately, criticism, adoration and righteous anger. Thank you, all of you and I hope this will fulfil all your expectations.

My brother's suggestion for this chapter was that zombies would eat Anakin's brain and steal his lightsaber. While giving this all due consideration, I decided that such a dramatic plot device would be inappropriate at this time.

PS – I suddenly realised that I have completely stolen Han and Leia's best dialog. Oh well…

This is the re-written version, because LL was right and I completed the last chapter at two o'clock in the morning. So… it wasn't quite as finished as it should have been!

**Disclaimer:** Own this, I do not. Broke already, I am. Belong to George Lucas the characters do. Yes…

* * *

_The voice of my education said to me_

**_He must be killed,_**

_For in __Sicily__ the black, black snakes are innocent,_

_The gold are venomous._

_And voices in me said, **If you were a man**_

**_You would take a stick and break him now,_**

**_And finish him off._**

_But I must confess how I liked him,_

_How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet,_

_To drink at my water-trough_

_And depart peaceful, pacified and thankless,_

_Into the burning bowels of the earth._

_Was it cowardice that I did not kill him?_

_Was it perversity that I longed to talk to him?_

_Was it humility to feel so honoured?_

_I felt so honoured._

_And yet these voices:_

**_If you were not afraid you would kill him!_**

_And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid,_

_But even so, honoured still more_

_That he should seek my hospitality_

_From out the dark door of the secret earth._

_He drank enough_

_And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,_

_And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air,_

_So black._

_Seeming to lick his lips._

- Excerpt from D.H. Laurence's, _Snake._

MK-MY-MK-MY-MK

_"He won't fall for it. He will sense something!"_

_"Learned this lesson from the Emperor, I have. Only when beings **want** to be deceived, can you trick them. He will sense nothing."_

_"I've found the stronghold –everything is ready. But I am still concerned about this trap. I have a bad feeling about it."_

_"Playing their cards, are we. Trickery and deceit – these things are the way of the Sith. Uncomfortable, they make you. But this, they will not expect." _

DV-AS-DV-AS-DV

Petva V was a planet covered in impenetrable, steaming jungle. The air was thick with moisture and it stuck to the inside of Lord Vader's throat and trickled down the back of his neck. He could deal with the arid heat of Tantooine, but Petva V was trying his patience.

The jungle was so dense that any vehicle was little more than a liability. The Sith Lord could sense the elusive presence Palpatine had spoken of, but its form was as intangible as the wind. It slipped around the edges of his mind, but remained obscure. He could sense where it was, though, moving deeper into the jungle. So he and Jade had set off on foot for, like vehicles, any escort he also deemed a liability when dealing with anything remotely to do with the Force. Of course, a guide would have been welcome, but Petva V had not yet achieved that stage of sentient life.

They'd been in the jungle for almost a standard week now and the precise hours of a galactic day were being replaced in the dark lord's mind by the primitive cycle of the jungle. The relative coolness of the shadowy pre-dawn murmurs, the deafening cries that accompanied the rise of the first sun and the gradual illumination of the garish swirl of the jungle colours, ripe oranges and tarnished blues with the distant yellow of the canopy above, then the rise of the heat with the rising of the second sun, heightening the pungent, alien smells of the jungle, those sweltering days that were sometimes accompanied by showers of rain so hot that they burned almost like acid. Then the heat slowly decreased and eventually the air filled once more with the cries of creatures fighting for a place to sleep, the shadows deepened and seemed to twist together and the air became still and oppressive. He could sense the dark jungle buzzing with fear as invisible predators silenced the shrieks of their prey.

He and Jade did not talk. Jade had kept a professional silence for the first few days, but eventually her resolve crumbled and she tried to talk with him, on one of those humid jungle nights that seemed to stretch on and on. His curt replies and controlled hostility effectively put a stop to any further discussion that didn't relate to the situation at hand. She had been told who he was and was clearly curious, even if she attempted to conceal it. But as his Master had once said, "Curiosity killed the gungun."

Vader observed Jade carefully as they tramped, his eyes trailing over her lithe figure, wondering whether that was what pleased the Emperor. She was attractive, no question, in the accepted, conventional way. She was clever, but not brilliant and she was Force-sensitive, but not exceptionally so.

The Sith Lord considered that he knew Palpatine and that he knew what attracted the sovereign. No matter which way he looked at it, Jade didn't make the grade. Palpatine always had ulterior motives, Vader was sure his Master would never sleep with someone just because he could. Did he seek to cement Jade's loyalty? She did seem fanatically loyal. But why was she so important that he considered that necessary in the first place? The Sith Lord clenched his jaw as thoughts pooled sluggishly in his head.

_How could Palpatine lower himself to touch that ignorant girl? And why had he sent her with him? Was it pure malice? _Vader certainly wouldn't put it past the Emperor, but somehow he had a feeling that there was another reason, although he couldn't begin to guess what it was.

At night, when the jungle was alive with the sound of death, Vader lay, staring up at the canopy, thinking of his Master, his thoughts refusing to settle in the sticky jungle heat. That soft skin would be pleasantly cool to touch, and smell faintly of some perfume and the robes would be silk, and rub against him, cold and comforting.

However much Lord Vader hated the days on Petva V – it was nothing compared to the _loathing_ he felt towards the seemingly endless jungle nights.

Finally, his aching feet stopped dead and he smiled, his eyes radiating with the anticipatory gleam of the predator. He scanned the area slowly, trying listen through the sunset screeching.

MJ-EH-MJ-EH-MJ

"It's here," Lord Vader said quietly, "whatever it is – its here." He paused and to a step, inhaling deeply and whetting his lips. Mara looked around. This place looked no different from the many miles of jungle before it, but that only made her more uneasy. Her hands slipped to her blasters.

Suddenly the Dark Lord's head jerked up and his eyes narrowed. "Obi-Wan's been here…" he said tonelessly, his voice making Mara inwardly shudder.

There was a rustle in the bushes and the Sith Lord's red lightsaber ignited; swishing down easily, almost casually, into the foliage. There was a pitiful squeak and a small thump and then silence. Vader didn't look at her.

"Looking for me, were you?" a voice asked from behind them. Mara swung round, her weapons drawn. A diminutive, wrinkled, green alien with long wing-like ears stood before them, wearing a simple dun robe and leaning heavily on a stick. She glanced at Vader for instructions, blasters trained on the midget.

For the first time, Mara saw something that looked very much like glee spread across the Sith Lord's features. He bowed deeply to the alien. "Master Yoda," he said pleasantly and Mara saw a yellow light flickering in his eyes and she half-expected him to spring, like one of the jungle beasts.

"Vader," the alien acknowledged, not returning the bow.

Some invisible communication passed between the two and Mara inadvertently stepped back, shocked by the waves of power that flashed between the two beings. The small alien activated a shining, green beam of energy and Mara jumped aside as the alien flew at Lord Vader, lightsaber whirling.

There was no discussion and no insults, only bare, remorseless conflict. Mara assumed that the little creature must be a Jedi – so different from the Jedi of her imagination.

_Master…?_ Mara called, certain that neither opponent would notice her.

Palpatine was silent and his mind was shut from her.

_Master! _She tried again, focusing with all her ability. He was deliberately failing to respond, she was sure. _The Jedi… Master Yoda – _

_- Yes, yes, I know, _came the Emperor's reply. _He is no match for a Sith Lord. Lord Vader should have little difficulty in dealing with him._

The link ended and Mara was left to simply watch the duel. But it appeared that Palpatine's comments had been remarkably apt – for although Yoda was faster and more creative, he couldn't match Lord Vader's even strokes and used up much more energy than his opponent. But as Mara gazed at the Jedi, the tiny alien seemed to give out and his wise, golden eyes connected with hers for a moment, and the humming, red blade arched round and sliced though his small body.

Lord Vader stood, looking down at the dead Jedi. But, as they stared, the homespun robe collapsed in on itself and the green body simply faded away. The Sith Lord nudged the robes with his foot.

_"How interesting…" _

MK-OW-MK-OW-MK

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he felt the presence dissipate. Yoda's sacrifice was necessary – but it made his heart ache all the same.

EP-DS-EP-DS-EP

Palpatine let the music wash over him, creating a beautiful framework for his mind to explore. The quartet was playing in an old Naboo form, obviously tailored to appeal to his tastes. The string harmonies evoked memories of his adolescence, when he had first discovered that he had a passion for music. Re-entering the galaxy from the silence of his apprenticeship, music had seemed like an abstract mirror of thoughts and feelings, something that could express every nuance of emotion with such clarity. He let his eyelids droop a little and let himself drift in the musical currents.

The sound died away the auditorium was still. Palpatine could sense the fear of the musicians and the tenseness of the audience. Gone were the days that applause could be given with impunity. The Emperor languorously raised his hands and began to clap lightly, the audience following suit, until the applause became deafening. Palpatine smiled ironically. He had probably appreciated the music much more that anyone else, indeed, the Imperial court had been sleepy with boredom, yet they were clapping far more vigorously than he was.

Sate Pestage leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Lord Vader is waiting for you, sire, in your private gallery."

The Emperor nodded and stood, forcing everyone else to their feet as well. "I'll see him now," he said quietly. "Oh, and kill the Zimmae player, his concept of Eirté's Lament was insult to the composer."

The Grand Vizier bowed and gave the necessary orders.

* * *

Palpatine paused at the entrance to the gallery. His apprentice stood there in the warm artificial lights, gazing at the portrait of Senator Palpatine. The Emperor smiled slightly with memories of the artist. The man had been so struck by his apartments that he had insisted on painting him surrounded by scarlet with Palpatine dressed in modest black. His acquaintances at the time had said that the likeness was excellent, but that it did not capture the_ feel_ of the senator they knew. There was an intensity, a _disdainfulness_ in those features that was, they felt, completely alien to his nature. But the artist had seen it in him, and Palpatine found that interesting.

"I trust Master Yoda caused you no trouble," the Emperor said.

Vader turned and knelt, "None at all, Master." he said softly.

Palpatine approached his apprentice, while his likeness gazed down at them. Vader moved his hands upwards to grasp one of the Emperor's pale hands. For a while, he simply held it there, close to his face, while Palpatine stood, deciding what to do.

And slowly, ever so slowly, as if fascinated by that small, soft hand, Vader brought it down to trail against his rough cheek and finally rested it against his lips, and they opened to caress the Emperor's fingers. And still Palpatine did nothing, savouring his apprentice's capitulation, the apprentice who had left him weeping on that cold floor on Byss.

"I love you," Vader admitted. "But you've always known that, haven't you?"

His apprentice stood up, towering over Palpatine, still holding that single hand. Still, the Emperor said nothing, only gazed up into those deep blue eyes. "So small…" Vader murmured, "So beautiful."

And there was a breath and then the Emperor was lifted up and enfolded in those arms, in a way he remembered, had longed for, in the secrecy of his deepest thoughts. He let that touch push past his carefully constructed defences and opened his mind to his apprentice and felt… inexplicably happy.

They made their way up to the Emperor's chambers, Palpatine in the lead and Lord Vader following quietly behind, slowing his pace to allow for the Emperor's small steps.

When the doors hissed shut behind them, there was perfect stillness for a moment and Palpatine could see his reflection in the transparasteel window, and watched as his apprentice wrapped those large hands around Palpatine's slender form and bent down to bury his face in the ginger curls which were already stroked lightly with grey.

Palpatine's eyes closed as he was once again pressed against that familiar body. He let the tension of decades slide out of his muscles, and was lifted up into the arms of his apprentice, to meet those eager lips. He was lowered gently onto the bed, and they continued to kiss, slowly, knowing they had all the time in the galaxy.

To the Emperor, the movement of their bodies was like a glorious extension of the music, as they throbbed and coiled against each other, forming harmonies of touch and sweeping melodies of sensation. Then suddenly, something jarred horribly and everything was abruptly silenced.

AS-AS-AS-AS-AS

The clone gazed down at the body that lay spread-eagled on the bed, the neck bent at an unnatural angle. Master Kenobi had destroyed the Byss citadel. There was nowhere for the Emperor's soul to go. Anakin was the last clone, and he was configured to do his duty. For the Jedi.

But… he saw how he could become this man's lover. And that frightened him beyond belief.

DV-AS-DV-AS-DV

Darth Vader gasped as a terrible shock ran through him and his head jerked up. A horrible feeling of loss assaulted his senses. He glanced over at Mara Jade, whose mouth was wide open and her face empty of colour. She made an anguished screech, and fell forwards, Vader only just managing to stop her head hitting the flight navigation systems.

The Sith Lord propped Jade against her chair and searched inside himself for the link that had been there since he was young, that deep connection that had sustained him through so much. He reached out with the force, desperately searching for it, but all he found was emptiness.

And he knew that the thing he had dreaded and fought for years to prevent had finally occurred.

_"It was like being connected to another ship and having that ship unexpectedly torn away, leaving him open to the freezing, airless void of space."_

Fear of loss. Fear of loss had made Palpatine virtually annihilate his own feelings. Fear of loss had made Anakin Skywalker turn to the Dark Side. So much fear. So much waste – _why?_

He shuddered and clenched his fists so hard that blood began to drip onto the floor. _Palpatine… _his lips moved but no sound came out. To realise that he would never again receive that pale blue stare, that there would be no one, no one at all, who loved him.

He had abandoned everything for the Emperor. He had ended countless lives, fought endless wars, given up everyone else, all for Palpatine.

_And now Palpatine was gone._

And finally, Vader understood his Master perfectly. He understood that cold, implacable hatred that had governed Palpatine's every action. He understood that arctic loathing of the universe and everything it contained.

_"Are you even human!" _

_"Yes…"_

OW-MK-OW-MK-OW

Master Kenobi looked down at the Emperor. Lying submerged in that large bed, the dark, shimmersilk sheets ruffled and creased around him, Palpatine looked as small as a child. His head lolled back on the pillows, revealing the fact that his neck had been broken. _The originator of so much suffering and yet his death had been so quick, so painless. He might even have died happy. _Obi-Wan turned away.

"What do we do now?" Anakin asked.

"Now…?" Obi-Wan mused, stroking his beard. "Now, we wait."

DV-AS-DV-AS-DV

Darth Vader strode purposefully up the great marbled corridors of the Imperial Palace. Everything appeared to be functioning as normal. It gave him a feeling of unreality, it seemed impossible that they could fail to know what had happened.

Sate Pestage attempted to stop him entering the Emperor's chambers. His hand flew up and the elderly Grand Vizier hit the wall and crumbled onto the highly polished floor. The Sith Lord did not break his pace.

The door hissed open and Vader stopped, staring incredulously at the being before him.

It was like staring into a mirror.

And the dark lord comprehended everything. "So…" he said quietly, "you finally have the perfect apprentice."

The clone looked to Obi-Wan for guidance; the Jedi Master shook his head.

The new Sith Master stepped into the room and the door slid shut behind him. He looked over at the bed and drew a deep breath. "You're afraid of me," he told the clone. "I can feel it. You're afraid of me because I'm what you could become."

"I fear nothing!" the clone spat back, blue eyes blazing, drawing a blue lightsaber that Vader recognised.

"No," said Vader calmly, "you're wrong_. I_ fear nothing," he looked across at Obi-Wan, "because I have nothing left to fear."

He drew his lightsaber, smiling slightly as it ignited.

The clone lunged at him, Obi-Wan close behind. Vader easily parried their advances, deflecting one after another. Immediately he saw that his old Master was not going to survive this battle. Vader had come a long way since their last duel. He let go of his lightsaber with his left hand and calmly threw one of Palpatine's prized statues at the Jedi Master. Obi-Wan dodged, but barely. Before Obi-Wan could collect himself, Vader lunged and drove his weapon into his Master's chest, whipping back around to block the clone's advance.

"How could you love that disgusting old man?" the clone hissed, as their blades sizzled against each other.

"How could you not?" said Vader simply, breaking the connection and forcing the clone back. The clone flipped aside and landed in front of the bed, the Sith Lord following. The clone fought furiously, fought with a passion Vader knew intimately and instinctively how to counter. He lunged and the clone jumped backwards onto the bed, making the Emperor's body bounce slightly. The Sith Lord gathered the full force of his anger and hurled it at his double, just as Palpatine had taught him to do so long ago.

The clone flew backwards and shattered the transparisteel, sliding down the slope of the pyramidal Imperial Palace, crashing down onto a docking entrance several levels below. Darth Vader jumped, concentrating to slow his fall, feeling the air rushing past. When his feet connected with the ground, a blade of humming blue energy streaked towards him, and he only just managed to deflect the blow.

"You hate me," said Vader, forcing the clone to once again retreat, "that's good, because I hate you more than you could possibly imagine."

"I did something you should have done long ago!"

The Sith Lord blocked the thrust and cut under the clone's lightsaber, and watched as the red weapon burned into the clone's heart. He drove it in to the hilt.

"No. You did something that should've broken your heart."

He deactivated the weapon.

DV-AS-DV-AS-DV

When he returned to the bedroom, Mara Jade was leaning over the dead Emperor.

"Is he dead?" she asked hoarsely.

Vader nodded. Now that he had nothing to focus on, his eyes misted over and he found it impossible to speak. The cold wind of Imperial Centre swirled around the room. The lightsaber slid from his sweaty hand and fell to the floor. His knees gave way and he collapsed beside Jade, his eyes on his dead lover's face.

She reached down to touch Palpatine's forehead. "Do you remember," she asked vaguely, "the story of Darth Plagueis the Wise?"

Darth Vader stared at her in astonishment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jade brought a finger to his lips, a glimmer of something in her green eyes that he'd never seen there before. _"Yes,"_ she whispered, her young lips curving into someone else's smile.

She turned away from him and closed her eyes, long red hair falling across her face, obscuring it from view. There was an ignition of something in the Force, like the birth of a galaxy, everything in the room seemed to contract for a moment and Jade collapsed. Something moved through the air, brushing past the Sith Lord's face and beats of power spread out around them.

The figure on the bed drew a long, shuddering breath. Blue eyes regarded Vader sleepily. "She agreed to it," the Emperor said dreamily, _"how could her devotion run so deep?" _

Vader's eyes flicked to Jade, her body lay still.

_"Hold me,"_ thin lips whispered, almost inaudibly.

Wonderingly, still not quite believing his eyes, Vader gathered up Palpatine in the sheets, and the Emperor shivered, naked apart from the shimmersilk covers.

"I love you," he murmured in Darth Vader's ear.

"I know."

FINI


End file.
